Dedicated to Horrie and George Tarrant

We're on the downwind leg old chum,
our flight is nigh on done.
Think of all the glory, the bulldust and the fun!
We've skimmed the playful clouds of life,
dived deeply through the gloom.
We saw them die, their mother's cry, touched poppy's mean'ful bloom.

So tidy up your log books men, interrogations due.
The Last Parade will soon be made,
they wait to honour you.
Some landed long before us, their earth based tour complete.
To that "Crash Free" drome, eternal home,
where expired airmen meet.

There's something rare and special, we're proud to be a part.
The first!, "The Few", the greats who flew,
such splendour from the past.
Swiftly twilight shortens, with shadows deep and long.
I think of you, your shadow too,
like mine will soon be gone.

Before we make the touchdown,
receive the Final Pass.
Let's seal our special friendship with pleasures from the glass.
We'll drink to those before us, and those who follow too.
If you agree, then drink to me,
and I shall drink to you.

Let the outcome be our story, with the setting of the sun.
No tears, no fuss, hurrah for us, the final landing's done!
Roll out the welcome carpet, open up the bar.
Hail to our "missing" flyers, farewell to those afar.
Here in this mystic overplus, with every wish replete.
In this "Crash Free" drome, eternal home, where retired airmen meet.