The Soldier
They used to see him everyday,
Walking down the beach,
An old man with his memories,
No friends or family.
They say he'd been a solider
And a hero from the war,
A solitary man who lived alone.
And on the day he died,
His medals were by his side,
And a letter in his hand that said:
"I have always been a soldier,
I have served my King and my Queen,
Now I'm getting older,
I can only dream.
When I make that final journey,
I will turn my face to the sea,
In this world of changes,
Please remember me."
The paper ran a story on
This brave and humble man.
"There's no one here to mourn him,
Can someone lend a hand?"
And on the day they brought him down,
To the place where he would lie,
There were thousands on the street,
To say goodbye.
And many more would go,
In the days and months ahead,
To read these words in stone that said:
"I have always been a soldier,
I have served my King and my Queen,
Now I'm getting older,
I can only dream,
When I make that final journey,
I will turn my face to the sea,
In this world of changes,
Please remember me.
In these world of changes,
Please remember me."
