Blue Oyster Cult

Goerings on the phone from freiburg
Says willies done quite a job
Hitlers on the phone from berlin
Says Im gonna make you a star
My captain von ondine is your next patrol
A flight of english bombers across the canal
After twelve theyll all be here
I think you know the job
They hung there dependant from the sky
Like some heavy metal fruit
These bombers are ripe and 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 Id faint and be lost to our side
But theres no reward for failure - but death
So watch me in mirrors keep in the glidepath
Get me through these radars, no, I cannot fail
While my great silver slugs are eager to feed
I cant fail - no, not now
When twenty five bombers wait ripe