Battle of Britain
18.9
Did you hear them?
That roaring sound Of propellers whirring, And Bombs hitting the ground?
I wasn't there. But there's something so magical when their presence is felt in the crisp autumn air.
Feeling a mixture of pride, loss and fear,
The spitfire noise, getting ever so near.
Not just a relic, locked away in a shed.
Taken out for odd occasions from their dusty old beds.
How glorious they look, cruising the sky! How swiftly they move, how incredibly they fly.
The acrobats and dog fights,
Which paint a generation. When a war took part over head our home nation.
Tonight they blanket the sky over Leeming. Creating a excitement and that old proud feeling.
Always remember the Battle of Britain.
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