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We’ve raised a flagpole on the farm
And flung Old Glory to the sky,
We’re far removed from war’s alarm,
But courage here is running high.
We’re doing things we never dreamed
We’d ever find the time to do;
Deeds that impossible once seemed
Each morning now we hurry through,
The flag now waves above our toil
And sheds its glory on the soil,
And boy and man look up to it
As if to say: “I’ll do my bit!”
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