Stand to Your Glasses

Melody -

WWI version, adapted from Bartholomew Dowling, 1823–1863

Stand to your glasses
We stand 'neath resounding rafters,
The walls around us are bare,
They echo back our laughter,
It seems that the dead are all there.
Stand to your glasses steady,
This world is a world full of lies.
Here's a healt to the dead already,
Hurrah for the next man to die.
Denied by the land that bore us,
Betrayed by the ones we hold dear,
The good have all gone before us,
And only the dull are still there.
2. We loop in purple twilight,
We spin in silvery dawn,
With a trail of smoke behind us,
To show where our comerades have gone.

3. In flaming Spad and Camel,
With wings of wood and steel,
For mortal stakes we gamble,
With cards that are stacked for the deal.

Originally was a poem "The Revel", written in East India while the plague was killing many British troops and residents. Later, became very popular among British airmen in WWI and WWII, and by extension, with American pilots.

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