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