The Battle Hym of the C.I.A.

Julia Ward Howe

Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Drone:

It is trampling on the village where the terrorists are prone;

It hath loosed the Hellfire Missile and Its shards of death are sown:

Its truth is flying on.

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Its truth is flying on.

I have seen It on the runways of a hundred U.S. camps,

They have builded It a hanger ‘mid the Afghan dews and damps;

I can read Its bombing schedule by electric powered lamps:

Its death is flying on.

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Its death is flying on.

Foes have read a fiery gospel writ in guided tubes of steel:

“As ye have hurt our interests, so with you my bombs shall deal;

Let the Hellfire, born of Lockheed, crush the Muslim with its heel;

My bombs are flying on.”

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Its bombs are flying on.

It has sounded forth the radar that shall find the hiding place;

It is snuffing out the lives of men in every tribal space;

As our Predator is searching, we are basking in Its grace;

Our Drone is flying on.

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Our Drone is flying on.

In the bosom of the transports Drones were born across the sea,

With a glory in Their programs that transfigures you and me:

As They fire to make men corpses, let us die as Wall Street’s fee,

While Drones are flying on.

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

While Drones are flying on.

It is coming in the glory of the children in the grave,

It is profit for the mighty, It is heedless of the brave,

So the world shall be our footstool, and the soul of man our slave,

Our Drone is flying on.

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Glory, glory, Lockheed Martin!

Our Drone is flying on.