Air Fever
I must take to the air again to the lonely sky And the clouds
And all I ask is a small plane to fly from the maddening crowds.
And the gentle kick of the vibrant shock and
The powerful engines roaring.
And the sudden flips of the round wing ribs and
The throbs of an aircraft soaring
I must take to the air again for the call of the milky way.
Is a wild call and a clear call that airmen must obey.
And all I ask is a blue sky and a horizon afar.
And the hissing scream of the cold slipstream and
The pull of the rudder bar
I must take to the air again to the glorious Freedom of flight.
To the gulls way and the eagles way and the way
Of the spirits of light And all I ask is an airmans creed
and the blessing Of the brave.
And a cool nerve that will not swerve from an airmans lonely grave
Poland 1944