No wings or strings to see
‘twas pixie dust that held them high
Above the rolling sea
They knew the enemy would run
From such a horrid sight
Flying above while holding guns
Men flying through the night
With gun in hand, no man will stand
For all of them will flee
Boats in the sky the tanks are manned
Above the rolling sea
They fly all night, they fly all day
It may not sound quite right
Over anything in their way
Men flying through the night
Far over hill and over dale
Above the highest tree
More stunning than the mighty whale
Above the rolling sea
The battle surely is won
There may not be a fight
The Enemy is surely done
Men flying through the night
Back west they come victory won
The Enemy did flee
They didn’t need fire a gun
Above the rolling sea
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Just a note on this poem, we were supposed to write a balled about a tabloid article. It can be found here
