Our flag does not just dance with wind,  
Nor flutter just for show or pride. 
It rises with every warrior’s breath, 
Who for our nation lived and fell 

They marched through storms, they held the line, 
They gave their youth, their dreams, their all 
They answered when the country called, 
And rose again though they might fall. 

The flag doesn’t sour from cloth or thread 
But from the hearts who faced the fight, 
Who stood when all the world went dark, 
And carried day into the night. 

With countless dreams and hopes reside. 
With final words and last goodbyes, 
With the breath of those now gone, 
Have laced our banner all along. 

Its crimson red, a soldier’s blood, 
Its snowy white, the tears we’ve cried, 
Remember, It does not fly because of breeze, 
It flies because of who they are. 

It flutters not with fleeting gusts, 
But with the breath of those now gone, 
Whose final words and last goodbyes, 
Have laced our banner flying high. 

It does not soar from cloth and thread, 
But bound by courage, blood and flame 
Remember each fold contains a whispered name, 
So we could proudly speak the country’s name.  

Remember when you see it standing tall, 
Amidst the sky so vast and wide, 
It’s not the wind that lifts, 
But every soul that fought and perished. 

Remember each fold represents those who stood 
It does not soar from cloth and thread, 
It rises where the silence fell, 
In memory of the brave and free.