Plant flowers bright o'er this grave orb
For the old are off to fallow pastures
And the mighty young off to holy war
While we beat around in no one's shoes
Yet leaves oft to daydream
His glory be to rise again
Under colors red, smoke, and blue.
For the old are off to fallow pastures
And the mighty young off to holy war
While we beat around in no one's shoes
Yet leaves oft to daydream
His glory be to rise again
Under colors red, smoke, and blue.
(photo credit: NASA)
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