We march the street with dominant determination
in hopes of not only making a change, but curing a crisis.
Within each stride we ride our roar
amoung thousands of fighters who share that encore.
For life is sacred and death creeps in,
like a mantle of mystery the light does dim.
Everyone has a right to life,
every baby, child, husband, and wife.
So why is it that we are labeled as dead
once our heart ticks at its final hour,
only to never be classified as alive
after our heart has its first pulse to survive.
With every voice heard down the streets of our capital,
we could feel the energy empowering the crowd.
Each poster, each chant, each body
all in rhythm to take action before another baby dies.
For everyone who is for abortion has been born
and life is a right, no matter the situation, sign, or size.