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Turn the Bells

The market-place has nothing to sell

Left alone it's awnings shiver

Wind whistles through the wood

Fish teeth snapping in a riverPeaks puncture the sky

Like a child's icy toes

Dipped in a stream

That a few of us knowAnd the cloud just a ripple

A shock from the impactShadows on the streets

Look like veils at morning

Ice blots in the stone cracks

Where tears must have fallenOil by the bucket feeds

Flares to the heavens

Offerings of incense

Small bills and lemonsDrumbeats in the caves

And heartbeats in the huts

Protectors unveiled

For the first time in monthsYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bellsYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bellsThe storm clouds pass

And everything's for sale

The chattering of rapids

And bartering of sunsetBeads crunch like bones

Through fingers and knuckles

Poor hams pick cheap quartz

In the quarries and cliff-edgeA group of sandalwood trees

With clotted blood colored bark

Candle-lit teeth

Half-moon smiles in the darkThe biker gang smoking

On the edge of the lake

The smoke like white horses

A white-eyed mistakeThere's spirits in the water

Like photos in a box

They're torn by the current

And crushed by the rocksYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bellsYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bellsYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bellsYou find some best friends

We'll hold each other

And I'll turn the bells

I'll turn the bells

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