Echoes of the March

[Verse 1] Under the shadow of old wars cast, A young man holds the letters from the past. His father's words, a ghostly hand, Guides him as he stands where once he had. [Pre-Chorus] Violin swells as the story unfolds, The fiddle plays a lament, old as the hills, Whispers of fates that are bound to repeat, A drum beats like a heart, steady and deep. [Chorus] Will I walk the path that my father trod? Leave behind my son, beneath foreign sod? The pipes call as if across the glens, Will history's echo claim me again? [Verse 2] He marches forth, with his father’s stride, Through the mist that the Highland winds can't hide. Each step a link in a chain so long, The violin cries with a warrior's song. [Bridge] Softly the strains of a Celtic tune, Carry the tales of the silver moon. Over the loch, through the fields of green, Where battles rage, and sorrow's seen. [Verse 3] In the quiet hours before the dawn, The haunting fear that I'll be gone. Echoes of laughter, shadows of pain, Hoping my son won't bear this chain. [Chorus] Echoes of the march in my soul, Following the piper's mournful toll. Fearing the day I might not return, To teach my son what I have learned. [Outro] As the dawn breaks over the war-torn land, I pray he'll never hold my letters in his hand. The violin weeps as if to say, May peace be yours, come what may.