No more pain where they are now,
Deep in a sweet lullaby,
No sun on their face,
To worm their disgraces.
No one knows where these,
No one knows if they're,
Up in the sky.
40 winks were this soldier's last,
He now lies in 4 thousand piece.
Scattered in the long green grass.
Blood red covers the fields were the soldiers lye.
Thought blood was spread this was not the red that covered the Flanders field.