By Michael Berthelot
On our own from nine to nine,
Working the press till the ink runs dry.
Ragged and exhausted, no hope in sight,
Until together combined, one force, one fight.
Nine to nine to nine at most,
In 1872, Toronto united, and a new epoch to toast.
A long time ago, and a battle won,
But unbeknownst to most, a war just begun.