A million teardrops
for the many soldiers we've lost,
a mother cries for her child
freedom often comes at a cost.
Some fought on foreign land
and others at sea,
sacrifycing their lives
so our nation will remain free.
Many flowers adorn the graves
and the tombs where they lie,
a bugler plays Taps
Old Glory flies high.
The price of freedom
is often paid for in blood,
by many brave men and women
protecting the land that we love.
We honor our fallen heroes
once a year in May,
have picnics and hold parades
and even stop for a moment to pray.
Today we hold on to their memories
cherish each moment of love,
of the sons and daughters we miss
who now watch over from above.
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