"There ain't a triple-A gunner up there that's anywhere near my class
'Cause I'm as mad as I can be and I'm in for one more pass
He hosed me down one time too much and that one is his last
I look back at where he was; hey, man, ain't that a gas!"
- Dick Jonas, from the song "Son of Satan's Angels"

Ain't No Fighter Pilots Down In Hell

Author unknown, Air Force traditional

Oh, there ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell
There ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell
The place is full of queers, navigators, bombardiers
And there ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell

A bomber pilot's life is just a farce
A bomber pilot's life is just a farce
The autopilot's on, he's reading comics in the john
A bomber pilot's life is just a farce

Oh, there ain't no fighter pilots in Japan
No, there ain't no fighter pilots in Japan
Cause they're all across the bay getting shot at every day
There ain't no fighter pilots in Japan

There ain't no fighter pilots up at TAC
There ain't no fighter pilots up at TAC
The place is full of brass sitting around on their fat ass
And there ain't no fighter pilots up at TAC

There ain't no fighter pilots in the States
There ain't no fighter pilots in the States
They're all on foreign shores making mothers out of whores
And there ain't no fighter pilots in the States

There ain't no Navy pilots in the fray
No, there ain't no Navy pilots in the fray
They're in Hollywood out west doing what they do best
There ain't no Navy pilots in the fray

Oh, there ain't no fighter pilots down below
No, there ain't no fighter pilots down below
They're all way up above drinking whiskey, making love
There ain't no fighter pilots down below

Oh, there ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell
No, there ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell
The place is full of queers, navigators, bombardiers
And there ain't no fighter pilots down in Hell

It's a Lie

Author unknown, Air Force traditional
roughly to the tune of "Battle Hymn of the Republic"

By the ring around his eyeball, you can tell a bombardier
You can tell a bomber pilot by the spread around his rear
You can tell a navigator by his sextants, maps and such
You can tell a fighter pilot, but you cannot tell him much

   It's a lie, it's a lie
   If a fighter pilot tells it, you can bet that it's a lie

   It's a lie, it's a lie
   If a fighter pilot tells it, it's a goddam lie!

Little Brown Mouse

Author unknown, Air Force traditional

Oh, the liquor was spilled on the barroom floor
And the bar was closed for the night
When out of his hole crept a little brown mouse
And he sat in the pale moonlight

He lapped up the liquor on the barroom floor
And back on his haunches he sat
And all night long you could hear him roar
"BRING ON THE GODDAM CAT!!!"

Lady In Red

Author unknown, Air Force traditional

'Twas a cold winter's evening
The guests they were leaving
O'Leary was closing the bar
He turned and he said to the lady in red,
"Get out; you can't stay where you are."

She cried a sad tear in her bucket of beer
As she thought of the cold night ahead
When a gentleman dapper stepped out of the crapper
And these are the words that he said:

"Her mother never told her
The things a young girl should know
About the ways of fighter jocks
And how they come and go . . .
   . . . Mostly go . . .

Age has taken her beauty
And sin has left its sad scar
So remember you mothers and sisters, boys . . .
   . . . And let her sleep under the bar . . ."

Give Me Operations

Author unknown, Air Force traditional

CHORUS:
Give me operations way out on some lonely atoll
For I am too young to die; I just want to grow old

Don't give me a P-38; the props, they counter-rotate
She's smattered and smitten from Burma to Britain
Don't give me a P-38

CHORUS

Don't give me a P-39; the engine is mounted behind
She'll tumble and roll, and she'll bore a deep hole
Don't give me a P-39

CHORUS

Don't give me a Peter-four-oh; it's a hell of an airplane, I know
A ground-looping bastard, you're bound to get plastered
Don't give me a Peter-four-oh

CHORUS

Don't give me an old Thunderbolt; she gave many pilots a jolt
It looks like a jug, and it flies like a tug
Don't give me an old Thunderbolt

CHORUS

Don't give me a P-51; the airplane that's second to none
She'll loop, roll and spin, but she'll auger you in
Don't give me a P-51

CHORUS

Don't give me an F-82; that monster from out of the blue
You won't understand just who's in command
Don't give me an F-82

CHORUS

Don't five me an old Shooting Star; she goes, but not very far
She'll rumble and spout, and will surely flame out
Don't give me an old Shooting Star

CHORUS

Don't give me an F-84; her pilots they ain't here no more
They bombed in that crate, but they all pulled out late
Don't give me an F-84

CHORUS

Don't give me an 86D, with rockets, radar, and AB
She's fast, I don't care; she blows up in mid-air
Don't give me an 86D

CHORUS

Don't give me a One-Double-Oh to fight against friendly or foe
That old Sabre dance made me crap in my pants
Don't give me a One-Double-Oh

CHORUS

Don't give me McDonnell's Voodoo; there's nothing that she will not do
She'll really pitch up, she'll make you throw up
Don't give me McDonnell's Voodoo

CHORUS

Don't give me an F-104; she's faster than lightning fer shore
But after one pass there's no bullets, no gas
Don't give me an F-104

CHORUS

Don't give me an F-105, 'cause I like being alive
She's great for attack, she soaks up mach-mach flak
Don't give me an F-105

CHORUS

Don't give me an old F-4C, with a navigator flying with me
Her dihedral's neat, but she's got a back seat
Don't give me an old F-4C

CHORUS

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