The version I remember from 1963 goes:

In an old chemist's attic, so dreary and so mean.
You'll smell the pungent odor of Nitroglycerin.
They're busy winding fuses, and filling cans with nails.
Then little starving kiddies send up this mournful wail...

Oh it's...

Sister Ginny's turn to throw the bomb.
The last one it was thrown by brother John (BROTHER JOHN!)
Momma's aim is bad and the Coppers all know Dad.
So it's sister Ginny's turn to throw the bomb!

In the dark and dreary attic all filled with nitro fumes,
They spend each waking hour plotting other's dooms.
They build bombs every morning so not a day goes by
That from some burning building goes up this mournful cry..Oh it's

(Chorus)

They're taught to build bombs from the day they're born
And this is something they all do with scorn
For they can hardly wait to feel the blast and hear the noise
And watch the heads go flying....off little girls and boys..Oh it's

(Chorus)

She was naming little children one fine day
When her older brother swore she'd have to pay.
Grit his teeth and pull the pin..the whole darn house caved in.
And I bet she's building bombs below this day ...Oh it's...

Sister Ginny's turn to throw the bomb!
The last one it was thrown by brother John (BROTHER JOHN!)
Momma's aim is bad, and the Coppers all know dad
So it's sister Ginny's turn to throw the bomb!

It's-sister-Ginny's-turn-to-throw-the-bomb!