With our heads held high
Our shoulders maintained straight
With our spirited and non-vacant eyes
We have fought for freedom of expression
We've expelled liabilities from torture
Yet there remains a sense of unfinishedness
A feeling that there is more to be done
Than our consciences give way to
A way of life that our guides
Have yet to teach us

And still knowing all this
I chose you with your chestnut eyes
Your hair that coverts your face
Hiding from the outside world
Believing to conceal their vision
When it is yours you crop out too...