KNIGHTS OF THE SWINGING LANTERN

O we are merry men from Mars, An active squad of light hussars, Schooled in tact and the three big R’s And how to steer by moon and stars. Some think we haunt the gay bazaars, And likewise smoke long black cigars, But in our brood no Lochinvars Toast yonder moon and strum guitars. Our task is a life of jolts and jars And each one bears his grist of scars— The brand of couplings, beams and bars. Knights of the punch—our home the cars, We know the brig from the keel to spars, And there we reign like blooming Czars. Pilots, moguls, airship tars, We guide you safely to planet Mars O’er the trail of the swinging lanterns.