Source: Horntip Collection - Half-Mind Hymnal 2011

Lyrics

http://www.fighterpilotuniversity.com/music-and-theater/songs/save-a- fighter-pilot-s-ass/ Korean war version “Skoshe” is Japanese for little; “E and E” is escape and evasion

It was midnight in Korea, all the pilots were in bed, When up stepped Colonel _______, and this is what he said: “I hate the Goddamn place! Mustangs, gentle pilots, Mustangs one and all, Mustangs, gentle pilots,” and the pilots shouted, “Balls!” Then up stepped a young lieutenant with a voice as harsh as brass, “You can take those Goddamn Mustangs, Jack, and shove ‘em up your ass!”

CHORUS: Oh hallelujah, oh hallelujah, Throw a nickel on the grass, Save a fighter pilot’s ass. Oh hallelujah, oh hallelujah, Throw a nickel on the grass, And you’ll be saved!

Cruising down the Yalu doing three-twenty per, I called to my flight leader, “Oh, won’t you save me, sir? Got two big flak holes in my wing, my tanks ain’t got no gas, Mayday, mayday, mayday!Got six MiGs on my ass!”

I flew my traffic pattern, to me it looked all right, My airspeed read 130, my God, I racked it tight, I turned into the final, my engine gave a wheeze, “Mayday, mayday, mayday!Spin instructions, please!”

Fouled up my crosswind landing, my left wing hit the ground, Came a call from tower: “Pull up and go around.” Racked that Mustang in the air a dozen feet or more, I’m on my back, it’s worse than flak, why did I use full bore?

Split S into my bomb run, I got too Goddamn low, I pressed the bloody button, let both my babies go, I sucked the stick back in my gut_I hit a high-speed stall, Now I won’t see my mother when the work’s all done this fall!

They sent my up to Pyongyang, the brief said “Skoshe ack-ack,” But by the time I got there, the wings were holed by flak. My aircraft went into a spin, it would no longer fly, “Mayday, mayday, mayday!I’m too young to die!”

I bailed out from that Mustang, my landing was top line, With my E and E equipment, I made for our front line. But when I opened up my ration tin to see what was in it, The Goddamn quartermaster had filled the thing with shit!

Now in this Commie prison camp, I am obliged to sit, For one cannot go very far on a ration tin of shit. If I am ever free again, I will no longer fly, But I’ll have quartermaster balls for breakfast till the day I die!