On the eleventh hour
Of the eleventh day
Of the eleventh month,
1918, the guns fell silent.
World War One,
The war to end all wars,
Lest we forget, in Flanders fields,
The poppies grew blood red,
When Aussie boys, far from their homes,
Were number’d ’mongst the dead.
They came from farms where red gums grew,
From ’neath the Southern Cross;
No friendly sun, no magpie’s cry,
Would ever mark their loss.
In ev’ry town, in ev’ry park,
Their solemn statues stand.
Lest we forget those brave young men
Whose honour shaped our land.