For God and country out there—somewhere
In the distance between right and wrong
In the shadow between good and bad
In the space between us and them—

We took shape at Tun in ‘75.

When you mention Montezuma and the Halls
When you tell of Tripoli and the Shores
When you think of us, link us alongside
“young Harry” 
and the altar of Honor   
and know this, too, that
we few, we happy few, we band of brothers—

We proudly guard the streets of Heaven   
with an Ooh Rah and a Semper Fi
We, who never sleep
We, who do not rest.