I am the flag of red and white, with starry field of blue,
Beneath my folds have martyrs died that I might wave for you.
Within my folds have heroes lain, by storm of battle hurled;
And giv'n to me with dying breath this message to the world:

    O, come to the flag, all ye weary,
    Throw off the tyrant's thrall!
    For here in the arms of Old Glory
    See there is room for all.
    All men are equal beneath me,
    None dare to boast or brag.
    By East or by West,
    There is Freedom,
    There is Rest,
    In the folds of the starry Flag.

I am the flag of Bunker Hill and of Manila Bay,
I am the flag beneath whose folds our country's Father lay.
I am the flag for all the brave, for all the staunch and true;
For all the world, for all the free, the only flag for you.

    O, come to the flag, all ye weary,
    Throw off the tyrant's thrall!
    For here in the arms of Old Glory
    See there is room for all.
    All men are equal beneath me,
    None dare to boast or brag.
    By East or by West,
    There is Freedom,
    There is Rest,
    In the folds of the starry Flag.

My red is not my heroes' blood; it is the flush of pride
That marks the cheeks of those who see my pinions floating wide.
My blue is of the open air; my white is of the dove
That heralds peace, and ev'ry star a token is of love.

    O, come to the flag, all ye weary,
    Throw off the tyrant's thrall!
    For here in the arms of Old Glory
    See there is room for all.
    All men are equal beneath me,
    None dare to boast or brag.
    By East or by West,
    There is Freedom,
    There is Rest,
    In the folds of the starry Flag.