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When a man dies for freedom,
we don’t know what we’ve lost,
since most of us can’t tell
the shining from the dross.
We live in the safety
these braver souls have built,
never having to face
the world of kill or be killed.

When a man dies for freedom
some mock him verily,
say it’s 'not worth dying for,'
that it’s all ‘bigotry,’
forgetting that they say that
safe in the world brave men made,
using all their sophistry
to hide their jealous hate.

When a man dies for freedom
we weaken at the core,
because that man’s example
walks amongst us no more.
We try to tell children
to look up to that name,
but despite this, without them
our nation’s not the same.

When a man dies for freedom
and beats his enemy,
he buys with blood one moment
his people can live free.
Some may think that this price
is much too high to pay,
those people don’t remember
what it is to be a slave.

When a man dies for freedom
we honor that man’s grave,
make him an example
of how the good behave,
sing songs at his eulogy,
remember him alive,
try to glorify him but
we need to realize

none can sing his praises,
none need carry the pal,
when a man dies for freedom
he does not die at all.
He ascends to Heaven
and sits at God’s left hand,
his memory a calling
to the free hearts of man.

When a man dies for freedom,
no matter what else he’s done,
he’s earned his redemption,
he is equaled by none.
It is for us remaining
here on this mortal plain,
to boldly live our freedoms,
or else it was in vain.

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