Bird Life or the Lesser Half Brevet

Come all ye men of tongue and pen

Who spend your nights and days

By press or mike, just as you like

The pilots deeds to praise

Publicity it seems to me

Should still find time to sing

A song of love in favour of

The bird of the single wing

Who mans the guns to keep the huns

Off the back of the pilots neck ?

Who will twist and turn till his eyeballs burn

As he searches the sky for a speck ?

Who’ll first expose his unfortunate nose

To the focke wolfs murderous sting ?

Ask the pilot he’ll tell you to see

The bird of the single wing

And who must know all his radio

From A to the bitter Z

Able to read what some clot has keyed

In a fit of insanity?

Who’s got to crawl in a spare so small

That a cat you could never swing ?

This contortionist I present to you

Is the bird of the single wing

Who gets the girls with heavenly curs

And the lips like a cupid’s bow ?

And sings out “Ooh you wonderful you.

How high do you really go?

On whose manly chest does her little head rest

As his nose gets set or the ring?

On  the pilots of course  she’d have to use force

On the bird of the single wing