By Earl Holt III
In the heart of every Texan, there’s a spirit we all know,
Found deep within our memories, even in our bone marrow;
Where the bravest men, ever born, fought ’til all their blood did flow,
Creating Sacred Soil at a place called “The Alamo.”
It wasn’t myth or fantasy, neither fairy tale or lore,
When 189 men fought three thousand troops or more.
Over thirteen days they held the fort through shot and cannon roar,
Like Spartans at Thermopylae, buying time with their valor.
Though given every chance to flee, to a man they vowed to fight,
‘Cause they scorned the thought of fleeing, like some coward in the night.
And surrender wasn’t in them, any more than fear or fright,
With the “Spirit of Gonzalez,” they each knew their cause was right.
If cowards die a thousands deaths, and brave men merely one,
They’ve achieved immortality for the courage that they’ve shown.
When free men speak of the Alamo, we’ll cite the deeds they’ve done,
Emblazoned in our hearts and souls, where that one star stands alone…
(©) Earl Holt III