O howl at the moon my dear old friend,
I quiver and twitch when you're around me.
I cry your name and wait for the end.
Hear the kind trumpet sound, what does it send?
A message we did not want to be
A howl at the moon by my dear old friend.
Is it the time of our pitiful trend?
Our companion is gone, lost at sea,
His name we cry and wait for the end.
Tombstones lit, so bright that I intend
To reel his body back, all of it so empty.
We'll howl at the moon for my dear old friend.
Joy not sorrow will keep us and will tend
To hold us together as one country,
And we'll cry his name until the end!
Freedom we have, even without his amend,
And we'll see the light come up in our victory.
O howl at the moon my dear old friend,
I've cried your name and now it is the end. |
Submission Name: A Cry On The Cliff
