Young men soldiers nineteen fourteen Marching through countries they`d never seen Virgins with rifles a game of charades All for a children`s crusade
Pawns in the game are not victims of chance Strewn on the fields of Belgium and France Poppies for young men death`s bitter trade All of these young lives betrayed
The children of England would never be slaves They`re trapped on the wire and dying in waves The flower of England face down in the mud And stained in the blood of a whole generation
Corpulent generals safe behind lines History`s lessons drowned in red wine Poppies for young men, death`s bitter trade All of those young lives betrayed All for a children`s crusade
The children of England would never be slaves They`re trapped on the wire and dying in waves The flower of England face down in the mud And stained in the blood of a whole generation
Midnight in Soho nineteen eighty four Fixing in doorways, opium slaves Poppies for young men, such bitter trade All of those young lives betrayed All for a children`s crusade
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