Two pilots surrounded by fog, awaiting command. A few would have chosen to land, as one couldn't see his own arse.
The orders from High Command "Land on that darn ground!" On hot early spring day it came, the crash unknown to the world.
No plane could possibly land on an airport maintained by the Russian head. Unless you have TAWS on board, don't bother, just get the fuck out. Fuck out!
Baptised in fire, 96 to ground! Spirit of eagles death and glory! Moustache of Poland second to none, wrath of thy duck twin will now reach its top.Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
