Oh, Hedy Lamarr is a beautiful gal,
and Madeline Carroll is too;
But you'll find, if you query,
A quite different theory
amongst any bomber crew.
For the loveliest thing
of which one could sing
(This side of the Heavenly Gates)
Is no blonde or brunette of the Hollywood set,
But an escort of P-38s.
Yes, in days that have passed,
When the tables were massed
With glasses of scotch and champagne,
It's quite true that the sight was a thing to delight Us,
intent on feeling no pain.
But no longer the same,
nowadays in this game,
When we head north from Massina Straits,
Take the sparkling wine Every time,
just make mine An escort of p-38s.
Byron, Shelley and Keats ran a dozen dead heats
Describing the view from the hills,
Of the valleys in may when the winds gently sway,
An army of white daffodils.
Take the daffodils, Byron;
the wild flowers, Shelley;
Yours is the myrtle, friend Keats.
Just reserve me those cuties,
American Beauties,
An escort of p-38s.
Sure, we're braver than hell,
On the ground all is swell
In the air it's a different story.
We sweat out our track through the fighters and flak;
We're willing to split up the glory,
Well, they wouldn't reject us, So Heaven protect us,
And, until all this shooting abates,
Give us the courage to fight 'em
And one other small item
An escort of P-38s.
