A Cold November...

Hello,
Its me again my old friend
Every year I come and speak to you, I just wish you weren't dead 
The days back in that trench, days of sacrifice and friends losing breath
White eyes and blackened face, we were only young, it was a disgrace 
Muddy boots heavy as clay, writing letters to home, hiding our pain

I know you would have wanted me to live in the freedom we faught for 
The memories of our friendship, your laugh still echoes in the tears I pour
I have a beautiful wife and 3 children, now and again I tell them old stories 
But we're all getting on now, but trust me, I won't forget you and the falling 

My heart is whole but bruised
My body shows the bullet wounds
On a cold November, silence looms
Over a poppy, I still cry for you...

The letters you wrote to your family, the ink never dries from loving tears 
I talk to your son on the phone, for a funny story he still patiently lingers 
Today, I'll have a brandy or two and use the lighter you gave me to smoke my cigar
This might be a blanket battlefield of scars but I'm truly proud where you are

My friend
My brother
All the murder we witnessed 
In death I loved you like no other
So I stand here before the last post
The tears I cry are as real as they get
You were a brave soldier and not a ghost
Today, my heart aches but I'm not alone
Today, silence breaks and my poppy is soaked
My promise to you, I won't forget your fighting soul
I know you're with me even when I'm grey and old
Each and every year this remembrance stone is another day closer to a soldier's home...

My heart is whole but bruised
My body shows the bullet wounds
On a cold November, silence looms
Over a poppy, I still cry for you
Over a poppy, I still cry for you...