The fourth of July will never be the same,

Not that it ever could.

The fair damsel has gone away

To the sultry haven of unrest.

From our hearts she shall never sway.

Tears cried long and hard

On this Independence Day.

Farewell, we cry,

Farewell with a sigh.

Was she a myth in her sapphires and tennis shoes?

For Miss Bell, I sing the blues.

Happy faces turn to frown.

Tears of joy take to the other realm

Where lost voices can never be found.

Echoed through hallowed hallways,

We are frightened by the sound.

Cut and bruised of old bloody wounds

Inflicted by a shattered crown.

Farewell, we cry.

Farewell to the kingdom,

Our time is nearly done,

For Miss Bell, our sun.

Come the light of day

And promises we make in vain.

Stiff and still in the shallow grave she lays.

In all her glory shall we remember.

It is for her soul that we do pray.

Time grows slim to live and live well.

A lesson learned, there is no time to delay.

Farewell, we cry,

Farewell to the light.

Her time is done.

Farewell, Miss Bell.

Farewell to everything,