There flew the **** bomber low over a town
The front gunner shot at people he spotted
Short random bursts zipping out mostly missing
Bullets bouncing off roads houses walls
Some thudding into people quite lethally
Nobody shoots back this raider has surprise
And speed with daring to keep him safe
Plus eight guns to shoot if intercepted
The English fighters are always hungry
To nail a *** especially one aggressive like this
The Dornier zooms here and there gunning away
Having already dropped his bombs on target
A mid-sized engineering factory making items
For the war effort which killed German troops
It was now time to expend some bullets
Do some more killing on English targets
A grandmother was a target as was a postman
The Dornier curved round and headed for home
His ammo half expanded he continued
Roaring over rooftops a hundred feet up
His nose gun and other guns spit forth death
This was only one **** plane what of a hundred?