Bombs Away!

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        This is to be sung to the melody of "Silver Bells".

We are flying over Krautland in a B-17.

In the air there’s a feeling of tension.

No one’s laughing as we’re passing

hostile mile after mile,

‘til from under the cockpit we hear:

Bombs Away! Bombs Away! We’re dropping bombs on the Nazis.

They whistle down to the ground and blow the damned Nazis away.

 

Messerschmidts come, also Focke-Wulfs, attacking out of the sun,

as our gunners burn through ammunition.

Now the sky’s black, full of hot flak,

as we fly a straight line,

‘til from under the cockpit we hear:

Bombs Away! Bombs Away! We’re dropping bombs on the Nazis.

They whistle down to the ground and blow the damned Nazis away.

 

Now we’re homebound, getting unwound, and the Channel’s in sight

as our bomber glides in for a landing.

It was no fun on our bomb run.

We were shaking with fear,

‘til from under the cockpit we heard:

Bombs Away! Bombs Away! We dropped our bombs on the Nazis.

They whistled down to the ground and blew the damned Nazis away.

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