Brother, when you weep for me, Remember that it was ment to be, Lay me down and when you leave, Remember that I'll be at your sleeve.

In every dark and choking hall, I'll be there as you slowly crawl. On every roof in driving snow, I'll hold your coat, and you will know.

The house from which I now respond, Is overstaffed with heroes gone. Men who answered one last bell, Did the job and did it well.

As firefighters we understand, That death's card dealt in our hand. A card we hope we never play, But one we hold there anyway.

That card is something that we ignore, As we crawl across a weakened floor. For we know that were the only prayer, for anyone that might be there.

So remember as you wipe your tears, The joy I knew throughout the years. As I did the job I love to do, I pray that thought will see you through.

~author unknown~