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Wright Cyclone thunder coming closer mid day time |
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From thirty thousand feet the 452 |
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Group in clear sky |
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Beholds the city laid out like a carpet drown below |
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Still the fires from last nights attack among the rubble glows |
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Black puffs the anti-aircraft guns has come alive |
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As the mighty eight approaches high up in the sky |
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Death From |
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Above From the bellies of the flying fortresses in olive drab |
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Hells fire pouring down upon the earth |
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Incendiary high explosives falling through the sky |
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To detonate at ground level to enflame to kill to burn |
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Bombs away heading west 452 |
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Group returns to base |
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All land below engulfed in smoke the city is ablaze |
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Death From |
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Above Again at night the roar of engines in the dark above |
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The Merlin rumble now 514 |
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Sqadron has arrived |
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With bellies full of daeth and bomb doors open wide |
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To destroy what 542 |
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Group may have left behind |
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The pathfinders unloads a colour full veil glow so bright |
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And the rubble city down below burn throughout the night |
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Death From |
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Above |
