The mournful bell slowly tolls echoing across the fields
The early morning mist begins to rise
Exposing a Wiltshire town beneath grey skies
People milling around as if waiting for something to happen

The mournful bell still tolls

Old men in blazers and berets stand beside the
War memorial, their medals freshly polished
Shopkeepers begin to lock up their shops, office
Workers join the waiting throng and

Still the bell tolls its mournful note.

Men women and children begin to line the main street
Old and young they may be but one thing they have in common
Is respect for the fallen that are approaching the town
In hearses black and shiny, not one, not two but several
All coming through the town with police as escorts

The bell still tolls

The town falls silent, heads are bowed banners of the Legion are lowered in
respect. Union flags adorn the coffins
Wooton Bassett has come out to show it cares, for the
Young men and women who have laid down their precious lives.

And still the bell tolls

Flowers are placed on the hearses roofs and wives, sweethearts, brothers,
sisters, parents, children and friends publicly shed tears of grief,
and remember their love ones the way they were.

The bell still tolls……but respect has been shown

This High Street has become world renown
For honouring our fallen heroes, Wootton Bassett
this little Wiltshire town

The bell no longer tolls, for the cortege has passed
Life gets back to normal but there’s always another day.