A hard-hitting tribute to Brigadier General Charles “Chuck” Yeager, the World War Two ace and test pilot who became the first man to fly faster than sound. On October fourteen, nineteen forty seven, Yeager piloted the Bell X-1 “Glamorous Glennis” to supersonic speed after a B-29 drop over Rogers Dry Lake at Muroc, now Edwards Air Force Base. That milestone launched the X-planes era and helped shape modern high-speed flight. This track blends metal power with jazz syncopation and an alto sax co-lead. It’s built to feel like a rocket run across the Mojave, with a chorus that hits like a sonic boom. Song facts referenced: first controlled supersonic flight in Bell X-1 on October fourteen, nineteen forty seven; aircraft nickname “Glamorous Glennis”; flight over Rogers Dry Lake at Muroc/Edwards; X-planes program legacy. Credits: Lyrics and production by Synth Berserker. Historical details cross-checked with the Smithsonian’s National Air and Space Museum and NASA Armstrong Flight Research Center histories. - Mastered by mixea.commore

I stumbled across the writings Robert G. Ingersoll (1833–1899), a famous orator and lawyer known as "the great agnostic." While I don't agree with him religiously, I agree with his speech about Napoleon—well, except I've seen his tomb, and it's red Egyptian granite, not black Egyptian marble. I rearranged parts. Read more here: https://redtreetimes.com/2021/02/22/ingersoll-and-napoleon/ LYRICS: I saw him in Egypt in the shadows of the pyramids I saw him walking upon the banks of the Seine contemplating suicide I saw him putting down the mob in the streets of Paris I saw him at the head of the army of Italy I saw him at Marengo, at Ulm and Austerlitz I saw him conquer the Alps I saw him at Toulaine I saw him crossing the bridge at Lodi with the tricolor in his hand I saw him in Russia, his legions like winter’s withered leaves And I said I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes I saw him at Leipsic in defeat and disaster driven by a million bayonets back upon Paris clutched like a wild beast, banished to Elba I saw him escape and retake an Empire by the force of his genius I saw him upon the frightful field of Waterloo when chance and fate combined to wreck the fortunes of their former king And I saw him at St. Helena with his hands crossed behind him gazing out upon the sad and solemn sea I thought of the orphans and widows he had made of the tears that had been shed for his glory and of the only woman who had ever loved him pushed from his heart by the cold hand of ambition... And I said I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes And I said I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes I would rather have lived in a hut with a vine growing over the door and the grapes growing purple in the kisses of the autumn sun I would rather have been that poor peasant with my loving wife by my side knitting as the day died out of the sky (with my children upon my knee and their arms about me.) I would rather have been that man and gone down to the tongueless silence of the dreamless dust than to have been that imperial impersonation of force and murder known as Napoleon the Great. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes A little while ago I stood by the grave of Napoleon and gazed upon the sarcophagus of black Egyptian marble I leaned over the balustrade and thought about the career of the greatest soldier of the modern world. And I said I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant I would rather have been a French peasant and worn wooden shoes And so I would ten thousand times...more

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