In Flanders fields the poppies blow

Between the crosses, row on row,

    That mark our place; and in the sky

    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago

We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,

    Loved and were loved, and now we lie,

        In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw

    The torch; be yours to hold it high.

    If ye break faith with us who die

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

But war is not always sword and shield

The mind can be a killing field

    Our torch, the truth; and every lie

    Can cause a human soul to die

We cannot sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

What have you done with your Big Chance?

Have you given history a second glance?

    This path brings death;

    You make it worse with every breath;

We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.

The times are dark, but hope’s not lost

Now your generation will know freedom’s cost

    Bayonet in hand, we ran through mud;

    Tell the truth, or prepare for blood;

You cannot sleep, though poppies grow

        In Flanders fields.