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.