This is your Bushie, Mrs. Jones. You'll soon receive your husband's bones. He volunteered to fight my war, But he won't volunteer anymore. This is your Bushie, Mrs. Beans. They blew your son to smithereens. He never knew what he was volunteering for, But he won't be volunteering anymore. I know what's required to command: Send them off to fight a war they don't understand, Making sure the photos of their coffins are all banned This is your Bushie, Mrs. Fizz. Don't ask us where your husband is. I volunteered him to sell door-to-door, But our Fuller Brushmen found there's still a war.
Music & Original Lyric by Irving Berlin |