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On a foreign field far from home
lies the body of a hero born.
He gave his all knowing he would fall
and left behind forlorn voices that call
Cradled from harm by a brothers arms
he's carried on the back of another hero
As the word spreads
of the need to honor the dead
and we try to answer each call,
there will always be a growing need
and we can't ride to honor all who fall.
Try as we might
even though funds may be tight
and riding each day and perhaps each night,
we cannot honor them all.
But, our hearts are clear
to those who hear
as each of us salutes the dead
and the flags flutter and fly overhead.
We ride because a hero passes by
it's an honor to be there to say "Goodbye"