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We must never forget who 
Gets the credit for the freedoms we have,
of which we should be Eternally grateful. 

I watched the flag Pass by one day, 
It fluttered in the breeze. 

A young Marine Saluted it, 
And then he stood at ease.. 

I looked at Him in uniform 
So young, so tall, so proud, 
With hair cut square 
And eyes alert 
He'd stand out in any crowd. 

I thought how many men Like him 
Had fallen through the years. 
How many died on foreign Soil 
How many mothers' tears? 

How many pilots' planes Shot down? 
How many died at sea 
How many foxholes were soldiers' Graves? 
No, freedom isn't free 

I heard the sound of Taps One night, 
When everything was still, 
I listened to the bugler Play 
And felt a sudden chill. 

I wondered just how many times 
That Taps had meant 'Amen,' 
When a flag had draped a Coffin. 
Of a brother or a friend. 

I thought of all the Children, 
Of the mothers and the wives, 
Of fathers, sons and Husbands 
With interrupted lives. 

I Thought about a graveyard
At the bottom of the sea 
Of unmarked graves in Arlington. 

No, freedom isn't free.