Red is the colour of the box on the green
Just like the cross on the flag at sea
I've got the gentlest hands, And the sweetest smile
I love the ground, Whereon they lie
Red is the colour of buses and trams
Post-boxes line an idealised land
I've got the sharpest bones, And the cruellest eyes
I love the ground, Whereon they die
I love death, and well they know
I love the ground where poppies grow
I know the day, it soon will come
When they and I can be as one
At the graveside, I smile with glee
Satisfied, I will always be
I conjure a cause, just a few short lines
And they suffer death, a thousand times
Red is the colour that brings them to me
Their blood and their souls, they gave for free
The perfect corpse is a call to arms
I love the ground, whereon young men march
Red is the colour of the petals they wear
I whisper lies that all is fair
They called me pride, but my name is war
I love the ground, Whereon they fall