B52s - 1967


Straight white streaks across the sky,
Is all you see with the naked eye;
There is no sound from the sky above,
But they've come for "Charlie", with all our love.


A long way off there's a frightful din,
Their massive bombs are ploughing in;
The earth, it shakes from far away,
And even the leaves from the trees will stray.


Whole paddies turn to quarry pits,
Great masses of jungle torn to bits;
The holes they leave are really grouse,
They're deep enough to hide a house.


And all the dirt from in the ground,
Has vaporised, - it can't be found;
For every bomb weighs a thousand pounds,
It's "Hell on Earth" when they hit the ground.


A hundred or more from a single plane,
Either "Charlie's" dead or he's left insane;
So whichever way it's a job well done,
There's less of the bastards to carry a gun.
 

 

© Terry Tommasi
C Coy 1st Tour
Author: Terry Tommasi

 

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