Tribute To Fallen Comrades
you weep for me, remember that it was meant to be.
Lay me down and when you leave, remember ill be at your sleeve.
In every dark and choking hall ill be there as you slowly crawl.
In every roof in driving snow, ill hold your coat and you will know.
In cellars hot with searing heat, at windows where a gate you meet.
In closets where young children hide, you know I will be at your side.
The house from which I now respond, is over staffed with hero's gone.
Men who answered that one last bell, did there job and did it well.
As firemen we understand that death is a card dealt in our hand.
A card we hope we never play, but one we hold there anyway.
That card is something we ignore, as we crawl across a weakened floor.
For we know we are the only prayer for anyone who might be there.
So remember as you wipe the tears, the joy I knew throughout the years.
As I did the job I love to do, I pray that though will see you through!