On T.V. I see the poppies grow
Between the stalks I see the ghosts
Acquaintances, lovers, enemies, friends
Strange that an innocent plant
Brought about their ends
Many times it nearly killed me too
Slumped, choking, pin-eyed, turning blue
But I managed to swim against the stream
Pulled myself painfully out of the dream
Too many I knew didn't survive
Their families crying at the grave side
The earth fell to the coffin from out of their hands
Because of a plant that grows in Afghanistan
Struggling farmers grow it to keep their families alive
Smugglers carry it across the waters wide
Every mile that it travels, the price it inflates
It ends up on an English council estate
Shoplifters and burglars walk the grey, rainy streets
When darkness comes the working girls pound their beat
Warily watching through windows
The dealers do what they can
Selling powder from a plant that grows in Afghanistan
Aug 19, 2017
Aug 19, 2017 at 2:03 PM UTC
On T.V. I see the poppies grow
Between the stalks I see the ghosts
Acquaintances, lovers, enemies, friends
Strange that an innocent plant
Brought about their ends
Many times it nearly killed me too
Slumped, choking, pin-eyed, turning blue
But I managed to swim against the stream
Pulled myself painfully out of the dream
Too many I knew didn't survive
Their families crying at the grave side
The earth fell to the coffin from out of their hands
Because of a plant that grows in Afghanistan
Struggling farmers grow it to keep their families alive
Smugglers carry it across the waters wide
Every mile that it travels, the price it inflates
It ends up on an English council estate
Shoplifters and burglars walk the grey, rainy streets
When darkness comes the working girls pound their beat
Warily watching through windows
The dealers do what they can
Selling powder from a plant that grows in Afghanistan
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