andy-goldstraw

And the poppies are as red   As the blood you shed In the field in 1916 As the shells tumbled down Bodies covered the ground As you fought for King & Queen Then there’s a shout from the back “Watch your head Jack” But the bullet came through the sheen Pierced you through Broke my heart in two As you died in the field in 1916. © Andrew Goldstraw 2016

Do you hear the bugle sing way up on the hill? Do you hear the bugle sing way up on the hill? Do you hear the bugle ring for another to be killed? Do you hear the bugle sing way up on the hill? Do you hear the clang of chains way up on the hill? Do you hear the clang of chains way up on the hill? Do you see the bloody stains way up on the hill? Do you hear the clang of chains way up on the hill? Do you see the hooded man way up on the hill? Do you see the hooded man way up on the hill? Do you see him tied to a tree waiting to be killed? Do you see the hooded man way up on the hill? He gave his life for this war way up on the hill