From up on Poppy Hill
From up on Poppy hill sits a whitewashed cottage
Its flowers bright, its grass green
And under waving flags overlooking the windswept sea
Sits a girl on poppy hill, amidst the pink blooms
She throws her head back, laughing with the summer salt breeze
Hair in braids, pink dress sweet
And I watch her, as I pedal up to Poppy Hill
Amidst the pink blooms she waves at me
The flowers sing my name, rosy as I am when she smiles
Dancing, sprawled across her sun-filled lawn
Her eyes bright like the sun’s warmth
And they ask me to join her, joyously under endless sky
And when I press across the blooms, and walk to her side
I am on top of the world, surrounded by blue and rose strokes
Watching those flowers sing our song
From up on Poppy Hill
