In Flanders fields the bright red poppies blow lightly in between the crosses. the poppies mark are place it should of been the birds singing instead of the guns shooting below.
We were the dead. 100 years ago we still lived fall dawn we were loved and were remembered by everyone now we lie in Flanders fields.
Take up your anger with the foe to you from heart breaking we throw the torch it will be yours to hold don't let go.
If you break promise with us who die we shall not sleep peacefully by the poppies in Flanders fields.
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