On that day I was unknowing;
apron strings hid the scene showing
rending frames, all thoughts but one gone,
"How can we the people live on?"
And as cowboy presidents swore
the ravaged they'd settle the score,
all feared the coming of the red dawn,
unsure of how life could go on.
Now, I know what it is I'd say
when asked to honor that fell day.
The worst you can be is withdrawn;
you must remember to live on.
Promise you'll breathe for those that can't,
you'll sing your faith until you pant.
Dance through the light of precious dawn…
Can't you see we've got to live on?