Field full of poppies

Poppies flow on a field full of crosses

soldiers die on an unhappy day even in their short ages

away, away let the dreams fly away

fields all full of poppies and crosses.

 

England will breath in heaven when the poppies flow

short days ago we lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow

between the crosses row and row the poppies flow.

 

We are lovers who wasn’t the killers, that mark our place

and in the sky the larks, still bravely singing

we will always remember them and love them.

 

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