The angel bends as wings are torn.
Pick up the torch from feeble hands
Of fallen troops from days gone by.
The Battle falls to us.
We are the ones left behind
To carry the torch to our children.
What will our children find
Down the halls of Time?
The Fallen Soldier limps to the line
And passes the baton to us --
Pick up the Torch of Freedom!
Wipe the tear from the Eagle's eye!
The Eagle cries for freedom lost.
The angel bends as wings are torn.
Pick up the torch from feeble hands
Of fallen troops from days gone by.
The Battle falls to us.
A generation passes as time goes by.
We moan, "Are we too late?"
Freedom may die if we sleep, Oh why?
Why has America slept so late?
Pick up the torch before it hits the ground!
Bandage the angel's wing!
The horn of victory will be our sound!
No more tears will fall!
The Eagle will cry for Freedom found!
The Angel's wings will be mended!
Pick up the torch from feeble hands
Of troops from days gone by.
The Battle falls to us.
Lori Ann Smith
OTA3
1984-88
United States Navy
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