Lana Lane

He, who is falling to the ground
With a bullet in his chest
Was brought down by his own hand
Hardly noticed by the rest
He, who has soared above the clouds
Now will bow upon the ground
For he could remember
As a pilot of the war
And the life that was his was war
Death was his only hope at last
And the glories of his past
Follow in his footsteps
As he tumbles to the grass
He was a child before the war
And he thought of nothing more
Higher than the clouds were
As a pilot he could soar
And the life that was his was war
Soaring, soaring 'bove the clouds