B52s - 1967
Straight white streaks across
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.
C Coy 1st Tour