Austin Reichart

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Those That Marched Before

Hear the music playing,
Feel the beating of the drum,
See our colors flying,
Proudly in the sun.
Our shoes are brightly polished,
Our uniforms so neat,
The sergeant calls the cadence,
With the marching of our feet.
Old soldiers and sailors,
Marching side by side,
Marching to remember,
Our comrades that have died.
Never to be forgotten,
Remembered forever more,
A grand parade to celebrate,
Those that marched before.

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