What the poppies are for.
As bullets blow poppies grow,
Disturbed ground lies row on row.
In No Man’s land the poppies burn,
Machines will fire and the ground will churn.

Kneel down get on your knees,
Don’t worry about the mud and flees.
Pray for those who fought in the war,
They fought in the war for peace ever more.

During the Christmas truce no people died,
However hard lord Kitchener tried.
No-one wanted to fire their gun,
In fact they had so much fun.

Shells and bombs made of steel,
Helped Britain’s victory to be concealed.
The poppies are there to remember,
The soldiers that won the war by November.

As bullets blow poppies grow,
Disturbed ground lies row on row.