Bells of Notre Dame 歌词

	作曲 : Garcia
	Born in a sorry cot, left on the stairs of the cold stone;
	Damned to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone;
	Taken by the Church, his soul will be slave of God;
	In the belfry's beauty is his figure something odd.

	We see the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Dancing on the tallest towers

	Arcades and spires, filling his heart,
	Deep like the choir, fine like the art
	Is the place my cell, is it?
	Is God's home my hell?
	Oh, my body prisions my poor soul,
	Until I toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb

	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I'm the sound of Notre Dame

	In the Wheel of Life he is a horror for the crowd,
	When will be the time he'll see the sun between the clouds?
	Looking at the bells he thinks about his tragic fate
	Wants to be a rock or metal like his souless mates

	We hear the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Crying on the tallest towers

	Gargoyles and columns, his relity;
	Chants wich are solemn, his agony
	Is this place my cell, is it?
	Is God's home my hell?
	Oh, my body imprisons my poor soul
	Until i toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb
	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I'm the sound of Notre Dame

	zuo qu : Garcia
	Born in a sorry cot, left on the stairs of the cold stone
	Damned to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone
	Taken by the Church, his soul will be slave of God
	In the belfry' s beauty is his figure something odd.

	We see the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Dancing on the tallest towers

	Arcades and spires, filling his heart,
	Deep like the choir, fine like the art
	Is the place my cell, is it?
	Is God' s home my hell?
	Oh, my body prisions my poor soul,
	Until I toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb

	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I' m the sound of Notre Dame

	In the Wheel of Life he is a horror for the crowd,
	When will be the time he' ll see the sun between the clouds?
	Looking at the bells he thinks about his tragic fate
	Wants to be a rock or metal like his souless mates

	We hear the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Crying on the tallest towers

	Gargoyles and columns, his relity
	Chants wich are solemn, his agony
	Is this place my cell, is it?
	Is God' s home my hell?
	Oh, my body imprisons my poor soul
	Until i toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb
	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I' m the sound of Notre Dame

	zuò qǔ : Garcia
	Born in a sorry cot, left on the stairs of the cold stone
	Damned to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone
	Taken by the Church, his soul will be slave of God
	In the belfry' s beauty is his figure something odd.

	We see the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Dancing on the tallest towers

	Arcades and spires, filling his heart,
	Deep like the choir, fine like the art
	Is the place my cell, is it?
	Is God' s home my hell?
	Oh, my body prisions my poor soul,
	Until I toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb

	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I' m the sound of Notre Dame

	In the Wheel of Life he is a horror for the crowd,
	When will be the time he' ll see the sun between the clouds?
	Looking at the bells he thinks about his tragic fate
	Wants to be a rock or metal like his souless mates

	We hear the hunchback in Notre Dame
	Crying on the tallest towers

	Gargoyles and columns, his relity
	Chants wich are solemn, his agony
	Is this place my cell, is it?
	Is God' s home my hell?
	Oh, my body imprisons my poor soul
	Until i toll!

	I am grim, full of gloom
	In my dim gothic tomb
	But the bells in my heart chime for ever
	With the ding that belongs
	To the king of their songs
	I' m the sound of Notre Dame

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