See the people running. Hear the rum-tum-tumming. Military music fills the air! Everyone is waving. Hearts are palpitating. Flags are flying everywhere of every allied nation from nearly all creation.
Their banners wave from every staff and dome, but the one I love to see that means so much to me is the flag that's flying at home.
There's a service flag flying at our house, a blue star in a field of red and white. Father is so proud of what his boy has done!
There's a tear in mother's smile and she murmurs "my son." Perhaps he may return with fame and glory, but if by chance we lose him in the fight, there'll be a service flag flying at our house and a new star in heaven that night.
There beside Old Glory, telling all our story, 'til the end that flag is going to fly. We are proud to show it--want the world to know it.
We will do or we will die. There's a million others, giving sons and brothers, and proudly watch them as they march away, and although their hearts may ache, although their hearts may break, there's a million glad they can sing:
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