Birds of Pray.

Our father
This rip cord and I, over Devon
parachute pre packed by name,
This war will be won,
don't let me be undone,
plunging to earth,
and end up in heaven,
give us this day upon the countryside, bled
and forgive us my strings, lessen
as I, forgive the strings, that gave up against us
and lead me not into acceleration
but deliver us from the unbelievable
for thine is the kingdom,
the power of the story,
we plunged to our death,
airmen.

M J Martin.