What's Left Of The Flag

His eyes they closed and his last breath spoke

He had seen all to be seen

A life once full, now an empty vase

Wilt the blossoms on his early grave

Walk away, my boy, walk away me boy

And by mornin' we'll be free

Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear

And raise what's left of the flag for me

Then the rosary beads count them, one, two, three

Fell apart as they hit the floor

In our garb of black, we must pay respect

To the colour we're born to mourn

Walk away, my boys, walk away me boys

And by mornin' we'll be free

Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear

And raise what's left of the flag for me

In his place there grew an angry festered wound

Filled with hatred and remorse

Where I'd pick and scratch till the blood it matched

The silent rage now that fills my lungs

For there are many ways to kill a man they say

With bayonet, axe, or sword

But son a bullet fired from a shapeless guise

Leaves but the shell of a Thompson gun

Walk away, my boys, walk away, my boys

And by mornin' we'll be free

Wipe that golden tear from your mother dear

And raise what's left of the flag for me

From the East out to the Western shore

Where many men and many more will fall

But no angel flies with me tonight

Till freedom reigns on all

And curse the name for which we slaved our days

Till every man shall his kingdom come

But sure as night turns day

Ends the passion play

Oh, my God, what have they done?

With madman's rage, well, they dug our graves

But the dead rise again, you fools