auzziegirl497

It's weird how these things happen. It's weird how they go. Three years have passed by; We're free now to roam. And it's all that I think of, And all that I know. Here is these vast halls And these buildings of stone. All that I think of Are the days that are gone. All that I wanted Was the chance to belong. It's weird how these things happen. It's weird how they go. We have been cast free; To live and to grow. Here is our first day; All silent, all new. Never knowing, never dreaming Of the things that we'd do. Second Year passed In laughter and fun. With jaunts round the town And days in the sun. Third Year neve

Scarlet is for bloodshed. For those who give their lives. Crimson is for heartache. For those who say goodbye. A poppy for a memory, A poppy for a thought. A poppy for every man or girl Who gave their life, who fought. Stand tall my fellow people. Stand silent and stand proud. Remember our brave soldiers. Sing their memory aloud.

Row upon row the tombstones grow. Silent and silver, so much to show. Here lies a father, a son, a brother. Here lies an uncle, a husband, a lover. Here lie the nameless And here lie the young. Here lie the forgotten beneath withering sun.