Lyrics:

Goering's on the phone to FreiburgSay's Willie's done quite a jobHitler's on the phone from BerlinSay's I'm gonna make you a starMy Captain Von Ondine, here's your next patrolA flight of English bombers across the canalAfter twelve, they'll all be hereI think you know the jobThey hung there dependant from the skyLike some heavy metal fruitThese bombers, ripened, ready to tiltMust these Englishmen live that I might dieMust they live that I might dieIn a G-load disaster from the rate of climbSometimes I'd faint and be lost to our sideBut there's no reward for failure, but deathSo watch me in the mirrors, keep in the glidepathGet me through these radars, no I cannot failNot when great silver slugs are eager to feedI can't fail, no not nowWhen twenty five bombers wait ripeThey hung there dependant from the skyLike some heavy metal fruitThese bombers, ripened, ready to tiltMust these Englishmen live that I might dieMust they live that I might dieMe-262 prince of turbojet, Junker's jommo 004Blasts from clustered R4M quartets in my snoutAnd see these English planes go burnNow you be my witness how red were the skiesWhen the fortresses flow, for the very last timeIt was dark over Westphalia, in april of T45They hung there dependant from the skyLike some heavy metal fruitThese bombers, ripened, ready to tiltMust these Englishmen live that I might dieMust they live that I might dieMust these Englishmen live that I might dieJunker.s jommo 004 (repeat many times)Bombers at 12 o'clock high