There flows a sea of poppies
Down from London tower
A sea of red to commemorate
The 11th month,11th day and 11th hour.

So many lives lost
Both young and not so old
To give us the freedom we have today
Their stories should be told.

The young man who lied about his age
So he could join the frontline
Never to come home again
Having stepped upon a mine.

The man whose wife is pregnant
He’s going off with bayonet and gun
Full of many hopes and dreams
Never to see his son.

The loyal wife waiting at home
To here news about her man
Seeing a boy walk up the path
The dreaded Telegram in his hand.

The son who dreams of his father
Coming home from sea
Only to see him returning
Half the man he used to be.

The daughter whose father told her
I’m doing this for you
So you can go and live your life
They way I hope you do.

The wonderful loving mother
Three sons she waved goodbye
One of them missing in action
The other two to die.

The proud father who watched his son
Marching down the street
His heart almost bursting with pride
Hoping one day again they will meet.

To the Tom,Dick and Harry’s
Who went fighting with the best
Some came back and lived life to the full
Too Many were laid to rest.

Thousands and thousands of lives lost
Of men we never met
That’s why it’s so important
That we never ever forget.