Top-Gun

Woah! Yeah!
Woah! Yeah!

Soaring down in a sweet plane
Still it won't park
My shift in full throttle
At twelve hundred hours

My wrists don't feel a thing
Too tired to give in
Running fast so they can't win
Running with the wind

Top-Gun! Number one!
Top-Gun! Number one!
Number one! Number one!

Hangar ships fill the bay
In our backyard
We'll meet each other
At fifteen hundred hours
Let's build a harbor from clay
So we can start
To eject your big brother
At eighteen hundred hours

My wrists don't feel a thing
Too tired to give in
Running fast so they can't win
Running with the wind

Stealth flier goes speed of sound
Air carrier stays on the ground
Silver wings travel across the land
That's why he's called Top-Gun, the man!

Yeah! Top-Gun, the man!
Yeah! Top-Gun, the man!
Yeah! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man!
Yeah! Yeah! Top-Gun, the man!