TWO THOUSAND ONE, NINE ELEVEN


                         Two thousand one, nine eleven
                      Three thousand plus arrive in heaven
                        As they pass through the gate,
                         Thousands more appear in wait
                       A bearded man with stovepipe hat
                  Steps forward saying, "Lets sit, lets chat"

                      They settle down in seats of clouds
                      A man named Martin shouts out proud
                       "I have a dream!" and once he did
                 The Newcomer said, "Your dream still lives."

                      Groups of soldiers in blue and gray
                      Others in khaki, and green then say
                  "We're from Bull Run, Yorktown, the Maine"
                  The Newcomer said, "You died not in vain."

                     >From a man on sticks one could hear
                       "The only thing we have to fear.
                     The Newcomer said, "We know the rest,
                    trust us sir, we've passed that test."

                        "Courage doesn't hide in caves
                     You can't bury freedom, in a grave,"
                   The Newcomers had heard this voice before
               A distinct Yankees twang from Hyannisport shores

                        A silence fell within the mist
                      Somehow the Newcomer knew that this
                      Meant time had come for her to say
           What was in the hearts of the three thousand plus that day

                       "Back on Earth, we wrote reports,
                      Watched our children play in sports
                      Worked our gardens, sang our songs
                      Went to church and clipped coupons
                  We smiled, we laughed, we cried, we fought
                         Unlike you, great we're not"

                       The tall man in the stovepipe hat
                    Stood and said, "Don't talk like that!
                      Look at your country, look and see
                      You died for freedom, just like me"

                    Then, before them all appeared a scene
                     Of rubbled streets and twisted beams
                      Death, destruction, smoke and dust
                   And people working just 'cause they must

                         Hauling ash, lifting stones,
                       Knee deep in hell, but not alone
                "Look! Blackman, Whiteman, Brownman, Yellowman
                    Side by side helping their fellow man!"

                    So said Martin, as he watched the scene
                 "Even from nightmares, can be born a dream."

                        Down below three firemen raised
                        The colors high into ashen haze
                     The soldiers above had seen it before
                            On Iwo Jima back in '44

                 The man on sticks studied everything closely

               Then shared his perceptions on what he saw mostly
                           "I see pain, I see tears,
                    I see sorrow -- but I don't see fear."

                      "You left behind husbands and wives
                     Daughters and sons and so many lives
                    are suffering now because of this wrong
                But look very closely. You're not really gone.

             All of those people, even those who've never met you
                 All of their lives, they'll never forget you
                       Don't you see what has happened?
                        Don't you see what you've done?
                You've brought them together, together as one.

                  With that the man in the stovepipe hat said
                     "Take my hand," and from there he led
               three thousand plus heroes, Newcomers to heaven
                  On this day, two thousand one, nine eleven.