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The market-place has nothing to sell
Left alone its awnings shiver
Wind whistles through the wood
Fish teeth snapping in a river
Peaks puncture the sky
Like a child's icy toes
Dipped in a stream
That a few of us know
And the clouds just a ripple?
A shock from the impact?
Shadows on the streets
Look like veils at morning
Ice blots in the stone cracks
Where tears have fallen
Oil by the bucket feeds flares to the heavens
Offerings of incense, small bills and lemons
Drumbeats in the caves and heartbeats in the huts
Protectors unveiled for the first time in months
You find some best friends
We'll hold each other
And I'll turn the bells
I'll turn the bells
The storm clouds pass, and everything's for sale
The chattering of rapids, and the bartering of sunset
Beads crunch like bones, through fingers and knuckles
Poor hands pick cheap Quartz, in the quarries and cliff-ledge
A group of sandalwood trees, with clotted blood covered dark
The biker gangs smoking, on the edge of the lake
The smoke like white horses, a white-eyed mistake
There's spirits in the water, like photos in a box
They're torn by the current, and crushed by the rocks
You find some best friends
We'll hold each other
And I'll turn the bells
I'll turn the bells
Left alone its awnings shiver
Wind whistles through the wood
Fish teeth snapping in a river
Peaks puncture the sky
Like a child's icy toes
Dipped in a stream
That a few of us know
And the clouds just a ripple?
A shock from the impact?
Shadows on the streets
Look like veils at morning
Ice blots in the stone cracks
Where tears have fallen
Oil by the bucket feeds flares to the heavens
Offerings of incense, small bills and lemons
Drumbeats in the caves and heartbeats in the huts
Protectors unveiled for the first time in months
You find some best friends
We'll hold each other
And I'll turn the bells
I'll turn the bells
The storm clouds pass, and everything's for sale
The chattering of rapids, and the bartering of sunset
Beads crunch like bones, through fingers and knuckles
Poor hands pick cheap Quartz, in the quarries and cliff-ledge
A group of sandalwood trees, with clotted blood covered dark
The biker gangs smoking, on the edge of the lake
The smoke like white horses, a white-eyed mistake
There's spirits in the water, like photos in a box
They're torn by the current, and crushed by the rocks
You find some best friends
We'll hold each other
And I'll turn the bells
I'll turn the bells
Lyrics submitted by thebackroom, edited by fickyeah
Turn the Bells Lyrics as written by Harry Mcveigh Charles Cave
Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Lyrics powered by LyricFind
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The lyrics make this song. For me it's about sounding a warning to all about the devistation such as oil dumping causes to the planet. It's a brilliant song for it's haunting portrait of imagery it paints. It's a cry for help for what this planet has undergone and is still undergoing everyday. A masterpiece as heartwrenching a song as any band could muster in my opinion. More songs like this need to be made. "Turn the Bells" is the singer saying he will sound a warning to all who continue to pollute the planet, to dump their toxic waste and oil, to smoke their nicotine by the lake... People need to be more conscious of what they are doing and what damage they are causing now & for future people who have to inhabit the planet. The song gives nature such as the fish, a voice. It's a song that needs to be heard by more people.