We wait and watch as course changes are wrought
The past is past and now begins to fade
This is what we called down and what we sought
Upon the new man’s head we have all laid
Hopes and dreams of the way we want to be
Having wrested control from captains poor
Drunk in the wheelhouse and headed to sea
We now take the till and steer back toward shore
A banner of hope from the mast now flies
O Captain! May we now embrace our fate?
A beacon of truth melts the fog of lies
We pray that sight has not come far too late
This our moment true; this our proving time
This our standing part; this our anchor line
Photo/Ray Larsen
Román Leão 
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