Lyrics
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 coast line bristle, and we have to fill the sky full of planes and guided missles they'll be paid for by and by.
Have you notice all the progress in our might air borne fleet?
By the time a planes adopted its already obsolete.
Theres no factory profit brother and we have to do or die.
One improvment then another, they'll be paid for by and by.
Modern bombs are sure to carry loads or glory joy and thrill!
What a privelege to bury all the dead our money kills.
Never mind the widows weeping.
Disgregard the orphans cry.
When God wakes the dead and sleeping, they'll be paid for by and by.