Young men soldiers nineteen fourteen
Marching through countries they`d never seen
Virgins with rifles a game of charades
All for a children`s crusade
Pawns in the game are not victims of chance
Strewn on the fields of Belgium and France
Poppies for young men death`s bitter trade
All of these young lives betrayed
The children of England would never be slaves
They`re trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained in the blood of a whole generation
Corpulent generals safe behind lines
History`s lessons drowned in red wine
Poppies for young men, death`s bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a children`s crusade
The children of England would never be slaves
They`re trapped on the wire and dying in waves
The flower of England face down in the mud
And stained in the blood of a whole generation
Midnight in Soho nineteen eighty four
Fixing in doorways, opium slaves
Poppies for young men, such bitter trade
All of those young lives betrayed
All for a children`s crusade