Yes, see its in the air
Like a jet
Hanging without flair
Moving but still there
Its face is out of sight
Tired claws it has hidden
This vertical tarmac not needing
Closed wings, this is its destination
Greasy gas dropping
As if with the wind it was fighting
Surely its time bend has come
With what it has long waited for
To do what eagles do
Some puppets do too
But the day the chicken flew
Never saw it again
But good our ports are filled
With fuel it piloted to men or with cargos it dropped for men
