pilotyip
Well-known member
- Joined
- Nov 26, 2001
- Posts
- 13,629
My thoughts exactly. Ouch.
Fits here, ole to the $35K freight dawg
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse;
We would not fly in that man's company
That fears his fellowship to fly with us.
He that outlives this night, and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when MMIO, LRD, are nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of a life flown in aged out junk
He that shall live this night, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say To-morrow is Clear and a Million.
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say These wounds I had on my 3rd load.
Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember, with advantages,
What feats he did those days. Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as household words-
Mar, huck, and Pcr, pilotyip, spooky 2 and con pilot,
Capo, j9, and all the Lear driving variants,
Be in their flowing cups freshly remembred.
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And The day we flew shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We few, we happy few, we band of freight dawgs;
For he to-day that shares this godforsaken profession with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And gentlemen on the ground now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us on Starving Pilot's pay.
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