Wootten Bassett
There is a town up for rent, its inhabitant's spent
From the constant grieving that sees no a leaving
Please send us one back that survived an attack
So we can retire this black take these funeral suits back
There high street's a runway for funeral carriage
The tarmac's being ripped up from the constant barrage
So withdraw all the horses and silence the gun's
and pray for the memories of those lost to the War
Leave noble Wootten Bassett to cry no more.
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