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A child ran through the meadow on a sun drenched summer day |
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And then he stopped his play |
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And kneeled in a field of poppies. |
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A man walked through my ghetto on a humid summer day |
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And then he stopped to pay and he dealed in a field of poppies. |
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Oh, flower of forgetfulness, just an hour away to the moon |
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Take a deep breath if you are reaching for truth |
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While you're in the stupor |
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The door knocks and death takes another youth. |
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Poppies, red poppies..., red poppies... |
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A boy I used to know, a boy |
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I used to know who's laughter rang to the skies |
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Was a joy to behold |
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Then I looked into his eyes, a look so cold, a boy who (rose on (???sorry)) |
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In a field of poppies |
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Poppies, red poppies, red poppies, red poppies..., red poppies..., red poppies...., red poppies..., red poppies..., red poppies..., |
