When the telegram came
She walked down to the lake
After reading of how, for country and King
Dress trailed in her wake
Tears fell upon her gold ring
After reading of how, for country and King
Her path lead through stark wood
Tears fell upon her gold ring
When she decided that she should
Her path lead through stark wood
For love now lies 'neath foreign soil
When she decided she should
End the drudge of daily toil
For love now lies 'neath foreign soil
Hopes buried in shallow mud
End the drudge of daily toil
Poppies grow a field of blood
Hopes buried in shallow mud
Takes little to drown an ache
Poppies grow a field of blood
She walked down to the lake. |