| To ride the storm to an empire of the clouds
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| To ride the storm, they climbed aboard their silver ghost
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| To ride the storm to a kingdom that will come
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| To ride the storm and damn the rest oblivion
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| Royalty and dignitaries, brandy and cigars
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| Grey lady giant of the skies
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| You hold them in your arms
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| The millionth chance they laughed
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| To take down his majesty’s craft
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| To India they say magic carpet float away
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| An October fateful day
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| Mist is in the trees
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| Stone sweats with the dew
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| The morning sunrise, red before the blue
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| Hanging at the mast, waiting for command
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| His Majesty’s airship, the R101
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| She’s the biggest vessel built by man
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| A giant of the skies
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| For all you unbelievers, the Titanic fits inside
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| Drum roll tight her canvas skin, silvered in the sun
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| Never tested with the fury, with the beating yet to come
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| The fury yet to come
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| In the gathering gloom
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| The storm rising in the west
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| The coxswain stared
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| Into the plunging weather glass
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| We must go now
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| We must take our chance with fate
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| We must go now
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| For a politician, he can’t be late
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| The airship crew awake for thirty hours at full stretch
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| But the ship is in their backbone
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| Every sinew, every inch
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| She never flew at full speed, a trial never done
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| Her fragile outer cover her Achilles would become
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| An Achilles yet to come
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| Sailors of the sky, a hardened breed
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| Loyal to the king and an airship creed
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| The engines drum, the telegraph sounds
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| Release the cords that bind us to the ground
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| Said the coxswain
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| «Sir, she’s heavy, she’ll never make this flight»
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| Said the captain
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| «Damn the cargo, we’ll be on our way tonight»
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| Groundlings cheered in wonder
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| As she backed off from the mast
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| Baptizing them her water from the ballast fore and aft
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| Now she slips into our past
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| Fighting the wind as it rolls you
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| Feeling the diesels that push you along
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| Watching the channel below you
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| Lower and lower into the night
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| Lights are passing below you
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| Northern France asleep in their beds
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| Storm is raging around you
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| A million to one, that’s what he said
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| Reaper standing beside her
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| With his scythe cuts to the bone
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| Panic to make a decision
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| Experienced men asleep in their graves
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| Her cover is ripped and she’s drowning
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| Rain is flooding into the hull
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| Bleeding to death and she’s falling
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| Lifting gas is draining away
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| «We're down lads» came the cry
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| Bow plunging from the sky
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| Three thousand horses silent as the ship began to die
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| The flares to guide her path, ignited at the last
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| The empire of the clouds
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| Just ashes in our past, just ashes at the last
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| Here lie their dreams as I stand in the sun
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| On the ground where they built and the engines did run
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| To the moon and the stars
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| Now what have we done?
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| Oh, the dreamers may die, but the dreams live on
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| Dreams live on, dreams live on
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| Now a shadow on a hill, the angel of the east
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| The empire of the clouds may rest in peace
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| And in a country churchyard laid head to the mast
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| Eight and forty souls who came to die in France |