| Red as the bloodshed, blue as the wounded, white as the crosses on our
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| soldier’s graves.
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| Through the rain, through the sun, these colors never run.
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| I first saw her standing on the corner of the stage and I’ve been pledging my
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| allegiance ever since.
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| We often take for granted her old familiar wave but that freedom cost a lot of
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| brave young men and women.
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| It’s one that’s red as the bloodshed, blue as the wounded, white as the crosses
|
| on our soldier’s graves.
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| Through the rain, through the sun, these colors never run. |
| No they never will.
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| Now I’ve seen people treat her like she was some old rag, clueless to the human
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| sacrifice.
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| But you’ll always find a mother, a widow, a child, a sister or a brother with a
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| carefully folded teardrop in their eyes.
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| It’s one that’s red as the bloodshed, blue as the wounded, white as the crosses
|
| on our soldier’s graves.
|
| Through the rain, through the sun, these colors never run. |
| No, these colors
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| never run. |