A child in a field sees a plane in the sky
His face lights with awe and a glint in his eyes
He spreads his slender arms in the golden fields of rye
And pretend through the clouds in the sky that he flies
He dreams of the pinks and whites of the clouds
Flying over oceans that have no any bounds
Listening to the beeps and the plane engine sounds
Thinks how he’d circle the fields round and round
The pilot in the plane sees a boy down the field
Free like a bird with his arms stretched against the wind
A tiny form of joy stung his heart through the shield
A sigh slipped from him as he left behind the field
He dreamed of his home with the cream coloured walls
A wife and a child and an infant that still crawls
High in the sky heading towards a land of death and war
He prayed he was home as a silent teardrop falls