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A March of Fools

Every July
Drums beat
Chests proud
To fife and drum
For freedom of faith
And a battle won
By one for that freedom
As by them it is seen.

All forget that
When he fought for their freedom
He did not fight
To oppress the Catholics.

And every July
He spins in his grave.
As his legacy is contorted
By the marching of fools.

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