morals:
Do what feels right
think of tonight
just get high

there in
a cobweb corner sits
an old grand piano

not used to play
any note in four years
and probably out of tune

her strings loosening and covered
in silk, no hammer has touched
or fallen away as quick

all the soundboard does is warp
under a stress of thirty tons and four years
alone

Shoulder to shoulder
These young men,
Boys,
Stood for the rights of all,
Thumbing their noses
At the iron fist that crushed
Their people's heart,
Giving voice
To those rendered mute
And heart
To those without hope.
Shoulder to shoulder
These young men,
Boys,
Stood while bullets ripped
And cannons bellowed
Until they could stand no more,
The word surrender
Unheard and unspoken.
Shoulder to shoulder
These young men,
Boys,
Lay at peace.
They lit a spark
That ignited a revolution
And the dreams of giants
Were realized
With the sacrifice of
These young men,
Boys,
Legends.