Land of the Brave, Not of the Free:
Dear vizier of grand dreams and freedom rings,
What pity sight had laid to ease
O' this country of ours we dare call home,
For not land of free tis not but a loan.
For not land of free tis not but a loan.
O' grand magister of wit and wail,
Forgive me ser for there's naught avail.
The Land of the Brave, Not of the Free
Callings of desire enduring in steed.
Hark through the ages Freedom is swayed,
For politics bleeds us dry without dismay.
O' grand magister of Time beloved,
Free not my soul from this horrid bind'd
Thy supple hands of talent and woe,
Couldst last not one night in this horrible low.
Tho' beseech you I may for all is not lost,
Freedom still rings while Others are tossed.
Freedom still rings while Others are tossed.
O' grand magister of Time be
Enlight me your wisdom to set me Free.
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