Oh, may the bullets go by, go by,
An' not be findin' you.
Astonishing luck, says I, says I,
To you an' yer aeroplane;
An' if it's yer joss to die, to die,
May the enemy say as you drop below,
An' you start your final dive:
"Three of us left to see him go,
An' it must be nice for him to know,