Lyrics:

Goering's on the phone to Freiburg Say's Willie's done quite a job Hitler's on the phone from Berlin Say's I'm gonna make you a star My Captain Von Ondine, here's your next patrol A flight of English bombers across the canal After twelve, they'll all be here I think you know the job They hung there dependant from the sky Like some heavy metal fruit These bombers, ripened, ready to tilt Must these Englishmen live that I might die Must they live that I might die In a G-load disaster from the rate of climb Sometimes I'd faint and be lost to our side But there's no reward for failure, but death So watch me in the mirrors, keep in the glidepath Get me through these radars, no I cannot fail Not when great silver slugs are eager to feed I can't fail, no not now When twenty five bombers wait ripe They hung there dependant from the sky Like some heavy metal fruit These bombers, ripened, ready to tilt Must these Englishmen live that I might die Must they live that I might die Me-262 prince of turbojet, Junker's jommo 004 Blasts from clustered R4M quartets in my snout And see these English planes go burn Now you be my witness how red were the skies When the fortresses flow, for the very last time It was dark over Westphalia, in april of T45 They hung there dependant from the sky Like some heavy metal fruit These bombers, ripened, ready to tilt Must these Englishmen live that I might die Must they live that I might die Must these Englishmen live that I might die Junker.s jommo 004 (repeat many times) Bombers at 12 o'clock high