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HugMonster
4th Jul 2001, 22:43
(Apologies to Rudyard Kipling this time)

If you wake at midnight thinking planes are neat,
You may end up going blind, or sleeping in the street,
Them that waste their money find out how to cry.
Ignore the call, my darling, before you learn to fly!
Pratt and Whitney engines
Droning through the dark –
Listen for the ident
Above the Captain’s bark;
Lacy-undied hosties
If he’s lucky he’ll espy,
“Watch your speed, you pillock, while the NDB goes by!”

Strolling round the hotel bar, if you chance to find
Piles of drunkards, lewd and rowdy, full of beer and wine,
To keep from being hungover, don’t join in their play.
Sore of head and fur in mouth, they’ll be back in uniform next day!

If you see a hotel door setting open wide;
If you see a knackered skipper lying down inside;
If a hostie wears his coat and very little more;
If she’s feeling high right now, tomorrow she’ll be sore!

If you meet some airline men, bank balances in the red,
You be mindful of their diets – on reheated meals they’re fed.
If the airline send the application, chuck it in the bin –
Don’t you learn to waste your time, nor live a life of sin!

Books and manuals round the house – long studies after dark –
You’ve no time for going out or lying in the park.
There’s no cheer – you have no beer, ten weeks now you’ve been dry –
All your money’s spent on aircraft since you learnt to fly!

If you don’t do as you’ve been told, likely there’s a chance,
You’ll end up on six-sector days between Heathrow and France,
With a captain who’s a dreadful bore, with humour carved in wood –
Or extra training in the sim, ’cos your landings are no good!
Pratt and Whitney engines
Droning through the dark –
Boredom on the flightdeck,
Promotion prospects stark
“I wish I’d listened to my mum,” hear the FO sigh –
“Don’t become a pilot – PLEASE don’t learn to fly!”

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The original:-

A Smuggler’s Song

If you wake at midnight and hear a horse’s feet,
Don’t go drawing back the blind, or looking in the street,
Them that asks no questions isn’t told a lie.
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!
Five and twenty ponies
Trotting through the dark –
Brandy for the Parson
’Baccy for the Clerk;
Laces for a lady, letters for a spy,
And watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!

Running round the woodlump if you chance to find
Little barrels, roped and tarred, all full of brandy-wine,
Don’t you shout to come and look, nor use ’em for your play.
Put the brishwood back again – and they’ll be gone next day!

If you see the stable-door setting open wide;
If you see a tired horse lying down inside;
If your mother mends a coat cut about and tore;
If the lining’s wet and warm – don’t you ask no more!

If you meet King George’s men, dressed in blue and red,
You be careful what you say, and mindful what is said.
If they call you “pretty maid”, and chuck you ’neath the chin,
Don’t you tell where no one is, nor yet where no one’s been!

Knocks and footsteps round the house – whistles after dark –
You’ve no call for running out till the house-dogs bark.
Trusty’s here and Pincher’s here, and see how dumb they lie –
They don’t fret to follow when the Gentlemen go y!

If you do as you’ve been told, likely there’s a chance,
You’ll be give a dainty doll, all the way from France,
With a cap of Valenciennes, and a velvet hood –
A present from the Gentlemen along o’ being good!
Five and twenty ponies
Trotting through the dark –
Brandy for the Parson
’Baccy for the Clerk;
Them that asks no questions isn’t told a lie –
Watch the wall, my darling, while the Gentlemen go by!



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Breeding Per Dementia Unto Something Jolly Big, Toodle-pip