His flying jacket still has her perfume 
Memories of the night 
Play across his mind 
High above the fields of France 

A single biplane in a clear blue sky 
1917
No enemy was seen 
High above the fields of France 

Oh she looks 
But there's nothing to see 
Still she looks 
Saying "Come back for me" 
He tells her "Just remember me this way 
Here am I more true 
Than anything I do 
High above the fields of France" 

Oh she looks 
But he'll never come back 
And the letter that came 
Was bordered in black
She'll find somebody else 
But not forget 
Leaving her regrets 
Like vapour trails of jets 
High above the fields of France 
High above the fields of France