On A November Morning
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Let the trumpets sing
And the drumbeat march on
As we stride
The absence of guns is loud
That we must cover our ears
The smoke and fog blinds to land
Hiding the hope they had
They will return to remind us
On a November morning
To tell their stories of war
As their wounds echoes in our mind
They disappear in thr mist of remembrance
Returning to their sleep
And waking up in paradise
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