I’m only a wartime working girl,
The machine shop makes me deaf,
I have no prospects after the war
And my young man is in the R.A.F.  
    K for Kitty calling P for Prue…
    Bomb Doors Open…
    Over to You…

Night after night as he passes by
I wonder what’s he gone to bomb
And I fancy in the jabber of the mad machines
That I hear him talking on the intercomm.
    K for Kitty calling P for Prue…
    Bomb Doors Open…
    Over to You…
   
So there’s no one in the world, I sometimes think,
Such a wallflower as I
For I must talk to myself on the ground
While he is talking to his friends in the sky:
    K for Kitty calling P for Prue…
    Bomb Doors Open…
    Over to You…