Supermarine

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Filthy Laugh

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Come to me my boy, fly closer my boy
I long for days like before sorrow
Jump out your Supermarine, float to ground to
Lay your head down on the soil
Mother

I'm not a believer in court martial either
Your ideals are gone, and I don't feel wrong

Your father swore conscientious objection
To every war after his, so can I
Plead to your blood, my proud boy, there's no shame in
Carrying flags handed down
Mother,

I'm not a believer in desertion either
Your ideals are gone, and I don't feel wrong

I'm still your boy mother, though in the clouds I am
Killing the fascists who fly over
I know we are also fascists like they are
And when I have landed I'll keep flying

Because you see I'm a believer that we'll lose something dearer
And I'll act for the right cares, and not shout from my armchair
Your ideals are gone, and I don't feel wrong

Your ideals are gone, and I don't feel wrong

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