Airplane blues

my steering wheel is gone, i'm coming in on one wing
i have lost my platoon--but this still isn't such a big thing
i' going against the Sun, going into dawn--
as if a steel spring is pushing me back again and again

oh baby it's been three years oh baby it's been three years
oh baby it's been three years oh baby it's been three years
oh mama it's been three, oh baby been three years, oh mama been three years
i can't see neither water nor dry land, i can't set down this goddamn airplane

i lay on a sag, i take out a cig,
a hundred miles by map, and then i'm finally at my field
and i am out of shells, and the only thing keeping me well
is Elvis Aaron on radio: it's live, so get ready-oh!
   
we were taught how to fire, we were taught not to die
we were taught to withstand pain, and taught how to take lives
such is our manly business, such is the pecking line
so meet and greet your pilot, Airfield of Paradise!

original--Разные Люди, "Третий год"("Самолёт")