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Lyrics by Bob Gillet - (tune - Hey Look Me Over)

Hey, look us over, ain't we the sight

We flew with Four-One-Six the other night.

But now we're sent out to clover

So let's fill the cup

'Cause who gives a damn what the policy says,

The only way is up -

To forty thou' in the blue sky

You on my wing

We'll skim the cloud tops

While the engines sing

We had lot's of luck with the old CANUCK,

And Canada's in debt

To that big ORENDA JET.


Recall those glorious days

Before we left the sod

We'd count the wings and engines

Slap the rocket pods

And then the pilot would say

"Observer in you get

I'll fly this airplane to your language profane

While you tune up the radar set".

Way high in the blue sky

Never had a care

Dodging while our rockets scattered everywhere,

We were Four Sixteen in a wicked machine,

A son-of-a-gun of a pair.

And we proved it in the air.


So ... we ... say

Hey, look us over, lend us an ear

Fresh off the squadron

Hours up to here

And if you've heard we're disbanding

You've heard it wrong

They'll take our old Clunk

And then sell it for junk

But memories linger on and on

We'll meet down the road

No matter where we go

If I don't meet you up above

I'll meet you down below

So let's make a toast

It was really the most

And didn't we have it swell

To that final scramble bell