Christy Moore Ringing That Bell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Through the blacked-out windows of my bedsit hell
From the steeple high they still taunt me
With all their smug impunity
Those bells ring with no guilt or shame
Resounding time and time again
The truth was told their numbers fell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Through the blacked-out windows of my bedsit hell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
How I wish Justine was here
Grá geal mo chroí mo chuisle dear
When she left me years ago she said
She couldn't live with the demons in my head
Sweet Justine my Brixton Queen
You never knew what they took from me
Some stories hurt too much to tell
Like the fire that only drink can quell
Through the blacked-out windows of my bedsit hell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
As I count me coins for a bottle of Glen
I'll get a drink in me and I'll make a start
Declare to Christ and the sacred heart
All them sanctimonious pricks out there
From Letterfrack to St Peter's square
From down in the burning pits of hell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Through the blacked-out windows of my bedsit hell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
Still they keep on ringing that bell
