Death of the Ball Turret Gunner

In Times Square I'll see your face

Through the crowd and all the rushed embrace

You'll say "I heard you lost an eye"

Then we'll watch all the shell-shocked sailors cry

It's spring

What a load it brings

In the air hoping systems work

A flaming plane that crashed then turned to dirt

I awoke to find my fur had froze

The 109's had done as they were told

It's spring

What a load it brings

When I feel pain

Mustangs strafed our train

Through the bars we heard the end was near

Juxtapose the guard's hate with new fear

We were marched through bombed-out gutted towns

I'd seen before with my .50's pointed down

It's spring

What a load it brings