Four Men in a Cub
by Roger, Over and Out, Hurley (1936-1995)
The Thirteenth of May
Four Stouthearted Fishermen
Went up, up and away.
Their last name was Hurley
I've forgotten their first.
They'd another thing in common:
An unquenchable thirst
For whiskey and gin
And for beer on the wing,
For adventure, excitement
And for one great big fling.
They took off from a cornfield
All carefree and gay
And flew 'cross Lake Erie
Northeast t'ward Tate's Bay.
Both their engines were humming
As they drifted along.
They cooly played euchre
since nothing was wrong.
Then all of a sudden
Three knocks did they hear
On the side of the fuselage
Which caused them to fear.
They youngest among them spoke,
Ed was his name.
"What the hell was that?"
He was heard to exclaim.
Then came three more knocks
From the opposite wing
And the Hurley named Fred said,
"Let's get out of this thing!"
But the eldest among them
Was no longer afraid
He sat there and smiled
While the other three prayed.
Old Bill was his name
And he finally spoke out.
He said, "Boys, don't you know
What those knocks are about?"
"From the left side knocked Steve
and old Al from the right.
They're letting us know
That they're guiding our flight."
So they all had a swig
From a bottle of gin
And the plane flew itself
And took itself in.
They all landed safely
And caught lots of fish
And they had good times
Beyond their fondest wish.
But they never forgot
While having their fling
That they might not have made it
Without help on each wing.
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