We’re all buying Spitfires
As fast as we can buy
Spitfires and Hurricanes
For battles in the sky . . .
The girls whose names are this or that,
The folk who keep a dog or cat,
The darts club and the foxhound packs,
The chimney-sweeps and steeplejacks,
The men who work in mine or mill,
Who milk our cows, our fields who till,
The rich and poor, the great and small,
The towns and counties one and all -
They’re all buying Spitfires
(Hurricanes and Spitfires)
As fast as they can buy.

They’re all buying Spitfires
The people near and far
Hurricanes and Spitfires
To help to win the war . . .
In Port of Spain and Singapore,
And Chequerbent and Cockey Moor,
In Burma, Bluff and Table Bay,
And tiny islands far away,
In Durban, Malta and Fiji,
From John o’ Groats to Tasman Sea,
In all the ends of all the earth
They’re writing cheques for all they’re worth -
And they’re all buying Spitfires
(Hurricanes and Spitfires)
To help us win the war . . .

They’re all buying fighters,
And as soon as they have done
They’ll all be buying bombers
To go and bust the Hun . . .