King, Queen, honor of your Country Men The blind man's fate, while another man waits The reality, brutality, walk a line of mortality The blooded poppies in the fields I've seen I know i can't put a name to your face Guess you hold a your love one in place Wonder if she will ever be the same Did she call you, her sweetest flame Well you start to welled yours ocean eyes up The droplets fall from the soul punctured cup A father would of been so proud Every moment he hides the tears he ploughed Did you do it for your hearts dedication Mother sorry for no more family generation In the distance you can hear the soldiers wade Beating to the drums of a trumpet fade Bold and brave the words upon the grave When you took your life, so i could be saved The blooded poppies in the fields I've seen The reality, brutality, walk a line of mortality The blind man's fate, while another man waits King , Queen, honor of your Country Men

The Passchendaele Trumpet Reflects a sad sorrow tribute about two strangers ( soldiers), who have just meet. In a war torn field, it shall also become the last moments of life together.