Oh, wondrous chariot, issue of Bell!
aggressors, those minions of Hell!
You're our secret weapon. You're
just what we need.
A barded old war horse with plenty of speed!
But first let me try to dispel old aspersions
That have plagued this fine weapon through all of its versions.
The P-39's P is short for "Pursuit".
Please disregard sources
which say "Parachute".
Oh, let's cut the malarkey and get to the truth!
You are a snake and the zeke, a mongoose.
But don't let this
somber appraisal alarm you.
You're an Airacobra! Just don't let him
Come in from above, look hard for his six
when you can, dive on in -- end his dark tricks.
Spray him with fire
and pray that he burn
Hope he don't see you, and hope he don't turn.
Administer amply thy cannon-rich noogie
you should miss him, endeavor to boogie
Don't try to turn -- trust
me here -- open your throttle
Your craft is not nimble -- your
ship's in a bottle.
When dodging his fire, use speed and some roll
Don't let his shells find you, or your Bell will toll.
you use cunning, stealth, chutzpah, and zeal,
you will discover your
Bell has appeal.
Seize every advantage. Eschew the heroic.
if you should triumph, don't be too stoic.
Get on the transmitter,
and tell all your friends.
Cuz kills in the '39 seldom start trends.
Share the thrill with your pal, but don't get TOO cute.
probably listening from under a chute