A TRIBUTE TO ROYAL WOOTTON BASSETT.
A bell in Wootton Bassett tolls
It is a doleful sound.
...
As autumn leaves fall gently down
Upon a silent town
The streets are lined with people
Who want to show they stand
In full support of soldiers
Who die in foreign land.
An aircraft lands at Lyneham
And brings the fallen home. The music of the last post
Drifts across the wind-swept drome.
The funeral cortege will appear
Led by a man in black.
Each coffin of a fallen one
Draped in a union Jack.
For they had joined the army
To serve our gracious Queen
They came from Scotland, Ireland, Wales.
And England's land so green.
In Afghan's troubled landscape
They did their very best
With British grit and courage
A task preformed with zest.
And then through bomb or bullet
They died on desert sand
Their lives cut short whilst serving
In Helmand's godless land
As Bassett pays its tributes
As bodies are brought by
The question on each person's lips
Why did they have to die?
Our politicians should take time
And give the matter thought
And think of all the misery
To the loved ones they have brought.
They sent our lads to battle
It really was a sin
To die in Helmand Province
In a war that we can't win
The time has surely come at last
To end this useless strife
A war not of our making
But costs such loss of life.
Until that day it comes to pass
We pray without delay
We remember Wootton Bassett
And the part its people play.
The Bassett bells will ring again
As they have done for years
But then in joy and thankfulness
And not with grief and tears.
So thank you Wootton Bassett
For the example you have set.
You've honoured fallen warriors
"The Nation Won't Forget".
