As the wind blew through the field,
The flowers waved bitterly in the cool, crisp air,
They wave in sorrow around the crosses,
Oh how they wave in sorrow all through their days.
The crosses stand firmly in the cruel, cold wind.
Where they stand is where there fell a soldier,
And forever in Grim’s Field they lie,
They fought for us, and they died for us in battle they did,
As they fell form the wounds or shots they bared,
For us they made us free,
For us they did a great deed.