Enola Gay

Look out, look out from your schoolroom window
Look up young children from your play
Wave your hand at the shining airplane
Such a beautiful sight is Enola Gay
It’s many a mile from the Utah desert
To Tinian Island far away
Standing guard by the barbed wire fences
That hide the secret of Enola Gay
High above the clouds in the sunlit silence
So peaceful here, I’d like to stay
But there’s many a pilot who would swap his pension
For a chance to fly Enola Gay
What is that sound high above my city?
I rush outside and search the sky
Now we are running to find the shelter
The air raid sirens start to cry
What will I say when my children ask me
Where was I flying upon that day?
With trembling voice I gave the order
To the bombardier of Enola Gay
Look out, look out from your schoolroom window
Look up, young children from your play
Your bright young eyes will turn to ashes
In the blinding light of Enola Gay
I turn to see the fireball rising
«My God, My God» all I can say
I hear a voice within me crying
My mother’s name was Enola Gay
Look out, look out from your schoolroom window
Look up, young children from your play;
When you see those war planes flying
Each one is named Enola Gay