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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