Flying high over the sticks,
gathering data, taking pix.
After its terrestrial flight,
came the time to make things right.

Bang bang, we shot it down,
bang bang, when past the ground,
bang bang, out in the sound.
Bang bang, we shot Ping’s-gang’s thing down.

From the Chinese came the lie:
a weather balloon in the sky.
Once it got out past the bay,
it was time to blow it away.

Bang bang, we shot it down…
bang bang, but still around:
rank gang of Chinese clowns.
Bang bang, we shot the balloon down.

It was sent up by Ping’s gang,
causing a lot of Sturm und Drang.
Now it’s wasted.

It’s long gone, dropped from the sky,
no longer able to spy.
No one believed the Chinese lie.
It was surveillance from on high.

Bang bang, we brought it down,
bang bang—a popping sound,
bang bang, pieces strewn ’round.
Damp, damp, all those that can be found.