Children's Crusade

Young men, soldiers, nineteen fourteen 
Marching through countries they'd never seen 
Virgins with rifles, a game of charades 
All for a children's crusade 

Pawns in the game are not victims of chance 
Strewn on the fields of Belgium and France 
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade 
All of those young lives betrayed 

The children of England would never be slaves 
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves 
The flower of England face down in the mud 
And stained the blood of a whole generation 

Corpulent generals safe behind lines 
History's lessons drowned in red wine 
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade 
All of those young lives betrayed 
All for a children's crusade 

The children of England would never be slaves 
They're trapped on the wire and dying in waves 
The flower of England face down in the mud 
And stained the blood of a whole generation 

Midnight in Soho nineteen eighty four 
Fixing in doorways, opium slaves 
Poppies for young men, death's bitter trade 
All of those young lives betrayed 
All for a children's crusade