Carry on

               When I was a young boy my father took me into the city to see a marching band, he said son when you grow up will you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the lost.  He said will you defeat them, your plans and broken efforts and the trouble that they have made.  Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom to lead you in the winter to join the Black Brigade.  Sometimes I get the feeling He's watching over me, and other times I feel like I should go through it all, the rise and fall.  And when you're gone we all will want you to know we will carry on, and though your dead and gone, believe me your memory will carry on.