Poem

Sixty years ain’t sixty days,
The ages don’t fall off.
Time runs on and the men we praise,
Hold their heads aloft.

This man he built an army.
This man he journeyed on the sea.
This man he wrote sweet, sweet lyrics worthy of envy.

A story to be told, written by his pen
Philanthropist, Olympian, Drummer round de bend
A story told and now unfolds, he rules with even hand.
Singing songs of movement, to live and die for de land.

Breakaway young sir, your day is here to celebrate your star.
From Town's start to kingly end, from where you come is far.

Strength in unity, power in family. These are what you've taught.
Enjoying now in your long days the fruits of what you've wrought.

Sixty years ain’t sixty days,
The ages don’t fall off.
Time runs on and the men we praise,
Hold their heads aloft.
Curtis now in name and nature,
Cut from kingly cloth.