What a friend we have in Congress Who will guard our every shore Spends three quarters of our taxes Getting ready for a war Guns must make our coastline bristle And we need to fill the sky Full of planes and guided missiles They'll be paid for by and by Have you noticed all the progress In our mighty airborne fleet By the time a plane's adopted It's already obsolete There's no factory profit, brothers And we have to do or die One improvement then another They'll be paid for by and by Modern bombs are sure to carry Loads of glory, joy and thrills What a privilege to bury All the dead our money kills! Never mind the widow's weeping Disregard the orphan's cry When God wakes the dead and sleeping They'll be paid for by and by
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