Friday, April 10, 2009

The song of liberty.

The sounds of auld fighting men, echoes with the drums,
the fifing corps and drummer boys, across the years it comes,
and with the sound of reckoning, comes dancing cross the soil,
where the drummers marching stand... before their troops they toil...

The buglers and pipers too, martial in their march,
when bogs and glen, from hearth and home, beneath the blue sky's arch,
when moments wrought and caught inside, liberty does spawn,
then comes the army from the ground, inevitable as dawn.

The march of liberty is here, esprit in the corps,
and though too many fall today, yet will stir their corpse,
from the blood so fallen now, freedom rises 'gain,
for never we bought liberty, except through our own pain.

For when the dirge of tyranny, echoes from the land,
and dreams are ground to dust again, and lost within the sand,
When the tyrants reached their hands, outside their own scope,
the dreamers still did dare to dream, and reach out for their hope.

The sound of fighting men did swell, a hundred thousand strong,
for fighting for the liberty, could never lead them wrong,
when men sought to make them slaves, never could they yeild,
even though they might now die, forgotten in the field.

Forgot by others, days past, but remembered in the years,
in the blood that they had spilt, in their sundered tears,
but in the moments that they knew, they never yet did kneel,
for inside their souls they were bound, with liberty their seal.

When men do disappear, not for what they do,
but for what they say, believe, not for what is true,
then tyranny is at your door, and coming with a knife
you dare not wait for them to knock, they're here to take your life.

When attainder has its sway, or habeas corpus quits,
when the law is not the law, with retroactive bits,
when steals from one for other's profit, brings the taxes down,
then has come the tyrant's hand, to try to make a crown.

From the blood must rise, the song of liberty,
for from the soil and from the bone, man must yet be free,
and find a way to bind them down, from the tyrant's goal,
for no man must be a slave, for taxes or for toll.

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