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Ring them bells, ye heathen |
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From the city that dreams, |
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Ring them bells from the sanctuaries |
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Cross the valleys and streams, |
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For they're deep and they're wide |
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And the world's on its side |
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And time is running backwards |
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And so is the bride. |
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Ring them bells St. Peter |
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Where the four winds blow, |
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Ring them bells with an iron hand |
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So the people will know. |
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Oh it's rush hour now |
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On the wheel and the plow |
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And the sun is going down |
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Upon the sacred cow. |
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(Ring them bells, ring them bells) |
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Ring them bells Sweet Martha, |
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For the poor man's son, |
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Ring them bells so the world will know |
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That God is one. |
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Oh the shepherd is asleep |
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Where the willows weep |
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And the mountains are filled |
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With lost sheep. |
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Ring them bells for the blind and the deaf, |
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Ring them bells for all of us who are left, |
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Ring them bells for the chosen few |
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Who will judge the many when the game is through. |
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Ring them bells, for the time that flies, |
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For the child that cries |
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When innocence dies. |
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Ring them bells St. Catherine |
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From the top of the room, |
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Ring them from the fortress |
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For the lilies that bloom. |
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Oh the lines are long |
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And the fighting is strong |
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And they're breaking down the distance |
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Between right and wrong. |
