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Post by parkhead98 on Nov 11, 2021 16:04:37 GMT
Surprised nothing has been posted on here, although I'm sure most of us will remember. www.youtube.com/watch?v=GtkE30fVqzEI've seen the sunlight shining on the valley I've seen the shadows darken on the deep I've seen the young men riding out for glory And broken in defeat
There was an hour that never knew a gloaming The whole of life, enchanted in a day And we'll be there, forever in the places Where we used to be
Passing the hedgerows, moving through the orchards Through the bocàge and breaking out for Caen Dealing fear and all our dices loaded With the courage of the dawn
And some will rise and some will fall To gain the world or lose it all And that time was mine to hear you When you called
You were our youngest, brightest flower Walking side by side through our darkest hour We'll take this cup, this portion evermore
I've seen the last wave breaking on the beaches I've seen the angels crying on the wire I've seen the first star up and brightly shining Couldn't rise much higher
Now we're waiting here not getting older But we can dream like we can not believe With all those fools, those great historic moments That flatter to deceive.
And some will come and some will go To rise on wings in skies of gold Or to fall down to the final, silent cold
When I was young it burned so bright The only son, a rising Christ Now I'm left here in the fall-out of that light
The rise and fall
The rise and fall
The rise and fall
The rise and fall
The rise
And fall
Rory & Calum Macdonald
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Post by baldbobby on Nov 11, 2021 17:07:23 GMT
In Flanders Fields 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.
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