My Name Is Old Glory Long May I Wave
My Name Is Old Glory Long May I Wave
I am the flag of the United States of America. My name is Old Glory. I fly atop the world's tallest buildings. I stand watch in American's hall of justice. I fly majestically over institutions of learning. I stand guard with power in the world. Look up and see me! I stand for peace, honor, truth and justice. I stand for freedom. I am confident. I am arrogant. I am proud. When I am flown with my fellow banners, my head is a little higher, my colors a little truer. I bow to no one! I am recognized all over the world. I am worshipped I am saluted. I am loved I am revered. I am respected and I am feared. I have fought in every battle of every war for more than 200 years. I was flown at Valley Forge, Gettysburg, Shiloh and Appomattox. I was there at San Juan Hill, the trenches of France, in the Argonne Forest, Anzio, Rome, And the beaches of Normandy, Guam. Okinawa, Korea, and KheSan, Saigon, Vietnam, Afghanistan and Iraq know me, I was there. I led my troops, I was dirty, battle-tested and tired, but my soldiers cheered me. And I was proud! Cowardly fanatics have attacked America and many lives have been lost. But, those who would destroy me cannot win. For I am the symbol of freedom, of one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. I have been burned, torn and trampled on the streets of countries that I have helped set free. It does not hurt, for I am invincible! I have been soiled upon, burned torn and trampled on in the streets of my country. And when it's by those whom I've served in battle with it hurts. But, I shall overcome for I am strong! I have slipped the bonds of Earth and stood watch over the uncharted frontiers of space from my vantage point on the moon. I have borne silent witness to all of American's finest hours. But, my finest hours are yet to come! When I am torn into strips and used as bandages for my wounded comrades on the battlefield, When I am flown at half-mast to honor my soldier, Or when I lie in the trembling arms of a grieving parent at the grave of their fallen son or daughter, I am proud!