Betty-Belle Randall was walking by the River Thames
In her right hand there was a bloodstained handkerchief
Viola Gresham
Was in her hotel room
Resting
For she had travelled far
Betty-Belle was in what was once
The Pool of London
She was sitting under a sycamore tree
On a scruffy wooden bench
And was studying the bloodied silk handkerchief
Viola had given her the handkerchief when they landed in Rome
As well as a flight ticket to London
These were the bloody tears of Christ
Who wept when upon the cross
Betty-Belle repeated to herself
Time and time again
The whole story was fantastic
But she believed Viola
There was no reason not to
Betty-Belle let the tip of her tongue
Touch the bloody stain
It tasted of salt
This shocked her as she had expected it to taste of blood
In Augusta her parents were beginning to worry about her
The trip to London was so out of character
As Betty-Belle was a dutiful daughter
But they knew that she would come to no harm
As Jesus would look after her