Subject: RE: Song?? From: "Burroughs, Michael Contractor \(SAIC\)" Date: Fri, 22 Feb 2008 07:22:07 -0600 To: "Larry Westin" , , "Smith, Jerry" , "Person, Bill" Guys, Here are the words I have--although I think there have been a couple of slight variations (depending on alcohol intake at the time it was sung!). I got this from Bill Person's on-line songbook several years ago. Bill; hope you don't mind. MIke Burroughs EXTRACAMOFLAUGELISTIC SUPER CONSTALLATION By J. J. Smith & Bill Person—1968 Chorus: We fly the extracamoflaugelistic super constellation, Even though the sound of it will cause you consternation. If you fly it long enough, it’ll give you constipation, The extracamoflaugelistic super constellation. Here’s the story of the speckled BUFF, the Lockheed Super R. It’s gained less fame in the air than it has in all the bars. But if you jeer a Connie man, he’ll answer without fail, “I’ll bet you mothers hanging ’round can’t handle that much tail.” Chorus: When I was in Texas, flying one three ohs, my Wing Commander told me That I just had to go, up to the far off north land, Cape Cod with all its snow To fly the Lockheed Speed-brake, it’s very, very slow. Chorus: We fly and fly and fly and fly and fly and fly and fly and fly, Because it takes so long for us to climb up in the sky. But even after all of this, we still aren’t too high; That’s why the pilots sit around and all they do is cry. Chorus: The Buff it doesn’t have much speed, it really is quite slow; It won’t go anywhere if on its nose the wind does blow. We fly in tiny circles round; we go and go and go, That is until the fire lights begin to buzz and glow. Chorus: One day the engineer yelled out, “We blew a PRT!” The A/C calmly turned around said, “Feather number three.” The young stud in the right seat whined, “Oh dear Lord, why me? To think I finished high enough to get an F-4C.” Chorus: When we were in Thailand, we shared the base with Thuds; Oh see them gaily walk around in all their fancy duds, Just sitting on the bar stools, a sipping up the suds, Oh gee, I wish that I could fly that great big Thunder Thud. Chorus: We have our own great heroes, each a wondrous guy, And if you’ll hear their hairy tails, the drinks they’ll gladly buy. Once a mighty major brave was up where the VC roam; He saw two shots of triple A and brought the mother home. Chorus: We fly our speckled Buffs away up in the sky; That’s how we spend the whole damned week, just fly and fly and fly. We fly in tiny circles round, over near the fray, But will we ever join the fight, you’ll never see the day. Chorus: The flack that Charlie throws at us while in the darken hours Is really such a pretty sight with all its sparking showers, But does that really scare us, or chill us to our bones, Hell, half the crew is sound asleep while the rest eat ice cream cones. Chorus: I long for the time to come when I can get some rest And go back home to the big BX where the loving is the best. Till our job be done, our tour complete, should either be the same, And these damned Buffs go back to TWA, the place from which they came. Chorus: It’s the extracamoflaugelistic super constellation, Number one priority in all of the nation; McNamara chose it in a fit of desperation, The extracamoflaugelistic super constellation! Chorus: We spend our monthly earnings out chasing Thai pooying, And nightly lifting mugs of cheer, while dirty songs we sing. Then when we get all horny, and feel the mighty throb, We go down to the bath house and get a great hand job.