Lyrics Children's Crusade - Sting
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
in
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
in
the
blood
of
a
whole
generation
Midnight
in
Soho,
Nineteen
Eighty-four
Fixing
in
doorways,
opium
slaves
Poppies
for
young
men,
such
bitter
trade
All
of
those
young
lives
betrayed
All
for
a
Children's
Crusade
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