In Flanders Fields
In Flanders fields the poppies blow Between the crosses, row on row, [tab]That mark our place; and in the sky [tab]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, [tab]Loved and were loved, and now we lie [tab][tab][tab]In …