Al Stewart - Fields Of France       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 to me      He tells her just remember me this way   Fore here am I more true   Than anything I do   High above the fields of France      Oh she looks   Though 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