AN AA GUNNER LAY DYING
(Cyril Tawney)

An AA gunner lay dying
At the end of a midsummer's day.
His comrades were gathered around him
To carry his fragments away.

The mounting was piled on his wishbone,
The breech-block was wrapped round his head,
A shell stuck out of his elbow,
It was plain that he soon would be dead.

He spat out a toggle and rammer
And stired in the oil where he lay.
Then to his poor mournful comrades
These brave parting words did he say;

"Take the rollers out of my stomach,
Take the breech-block out of my neck,
Remove from my kidneys the handwheel,
There's lots of good parts in this wreck."

"Take the chase out of my gullet,
Take the interceptor out of my brain,
Extract from my liver the striker,
And assemble the pom-pom again."

"I'll be riding a cloud in the morning,
And aircraft no more shall I fear,
And high on a cloud over Scapa
I'll shed all my good friends a tear."

"So don't mourn too much over my body.
Damn old Hitler and all of his lies.
Here's a health to the dead already.
Let's hope he's the next one who dies."

This song appears in Cyril Tawney's book: "Grey Funnel Lines"
Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd 1987 ISBN 0-7102-1270-4

Recorded on the tape: IN THE NAVAL SPIRIT, 1989
NEPTUNE NEP000
filename[ TARPJKT3
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mudcat.org

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