Page 6 - Over Berrege gesproken
P. 6
Freedom cries
History bleeds little white crosses
scattered over endless green fields
where broken dreams have rained
fallen down from foreign skies.
Echoes from the past still soldier on
ignored messages sometimes heard,
waves when silence speaks respect
for those who bled their heart and life.
The trumpet sings forgotten times
it's tones dance in deafened ears
forgotten lessons just fade away
as repeated days make freedom cry.
