The bugler's call

I heard it in the horizon,
just below the line of sight.
I heard it in the stilled darkness,
of a moonlit autumn night.

It called an old, rugged warrior,
called him to his last post.
Defending the gates of Heaven,
commanded by the Holy Ghost.

He’s our friend, and he stands ready,
today, still, as he has every single time.
Anytime his country needed him,
needed him to hold the line.

So tell me, did you hear the bugler’s call?
Did you hear it call our friend?
Don’t be sad, and always remember him,
A Marine, an American, and a Patriot to the end.