| Hawk was just seventeen when he flew away for war
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| Lied a little when he applied, but what is his lying for
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| Training in Arizona in the year of '42
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| They all called him Hawk for the way that he flew
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| It’s been sixty years and most he’s been up in the air
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| He spends his days now flying a dusty old armchair
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| That might be just a bore but he became my friend
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| For what is a story that he ever been
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| Hawk, how you could fly
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| There’s finally a road Hawk couldn’t be in
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| I told him all the things you will never do again
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| And his mind stayed sharp as a plane
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| Through the tales of his glory days
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| Hawk, how you could fly
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| Rolling thunder through the sky
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| If there’s a war to win
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| I hope you will take to the sky again
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| Mourners a few as they laid him in the ground
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| Decorated soldiers gathered around
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| They folded the flag and placed it in my hand
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| Said, 'Hawk is in a place where he’ll never had to land'
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| And that’s the full measure of a life of a man
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| Hawk, how you could fly
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| Rolling thunder through the sky
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| You found a war to win
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| You will never leave the sky again |