大象传媒

A young sergeant pilot lay dying,
At the end of a bright sunny day,
Turning round to his comrades,
These are the words he did say.
Take the Merlin from out of my stomach,
Take the joystick from out of my brain,
Take the rudder from out of my kidneys,
And assemble the whole thing again.
For I am riding the clouds in the morning,
With no Merlin engine to care,
So raise your glasses steady,
Drink a toast to the men in the skies,
Drink a toast to the men who lay dying,
And here鈥檚 to the next man to die.

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