I was walking down whitehall
A thought came into my brain
Supposing the poppies were white
Not the usual shade of bloody red
Could people ever change their mind
About the reasons they fill their
Buttonholes with wire and paper
Dyed the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
The legion collectors tins
Shake in every city, every town
Black centres to the flowers
Still the usual shade of bloody red
I want poppies for dead soldiers
Poppies for their mums and dads
Their partners and their children
Not the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
Poppies for those dead civilians
Young men their wives and children
Grand parents bleeding in the streets
It’s the usual shade of bloody red
I just cannot get that thought
To disappear from inside my head
If only the poppies were white
Not the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
A thought came into my brain
Supposing the poppies were white
Not the usual shade of bloody red
Could people ever change their mind
About the reasons they fill their
Buttonholes with wire and paper
Dyed the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
The legion collectors tins
Shake in every city, every town
Black centres to the flowers
Still the usual shade of bloody red
I want poppies for dead soldiers
Poppies for their mums and dads
Their partners and their children
Not the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
Poppies for those dead civilians
Young men their wives and children
Grand parents bleeding in the streets
It’s the usual shade of bloody red
I just cannot get that thought
To disappear from inside my head
If only the poppies were white
Not the usual shade of bloody red
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
White poppies……….
envoyé par DonQuijote82 - 22/8/2012 - 13:34
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