The Bells Phil Ochs
Music by Phil Ochs
Lyrics by Edgar Allen Poe
Hear the sl[D]edges with the bells, s[G]ilver b[D]ells,
what a world of merriment their m[C]elody foret[D]ells !
How they t[C]inkle, t[Em]inkle, t[A]inkle in the [C]icy [Em]air of n[A]ight,
all the h[C]eavens s[Em]eem to t[A]winkle with a c[C]rystall[Em]ine deli[A]ght.
Keeping t[D]ime, time, t[Bm]ime with a [F#m]sort of runic r[A]hyme,
from the [D]tintinnabulation that so m[C]usically w[D]ells.
From the b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells, b[A]ells, b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells,
from the j[G]ingling and the t[A]inkling of the b[D]ells.
Hear the m[D]ellow wedding bells, g[G]olden b[D]ells,
what a world of happiness their h[C]armony foret[D]ells !
Through the b[C]almy [Em]air of n[A]ight, how they r[C]ing out t[Em]heir del[A]ight,
through the d[C]ances [Em]and the y[A]ells, and the r[C]apture t[Em]hat imp[A]els.
How it sw[D]ells, how it d[Bm]wells, on the f[F#m]uture, how it t[A]ells,
from the s[D]winging and the ringing of the m[C]olten golden b[D]ells.
Of the b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells, b[A]ells, b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells,
of the r[G]hyming and the c[A]himing of the b[D]ells.
Hear the l[D]oud alarum bells, b[G]razen b[D]ells,
what a tale of terror now their t[C]urbulency t[D]ells !
Much too h[C]orrif[Em]ied to s[A]peak, oh, t[C]hey can o[Em]nly sh[A]riek,
for a[C]ll the [Em]ears to k[A]now, how the d[C]anger e[Em]bbs and f[A]lows.
Leaping h[D]igher, higher, h[Bm]igher with a d[F#m]esperate des[A]ire,
in a c[D]lamorous appealing to the m[C]ercy of the f[D]ire.
With the b[D]ells, be[G]lls, b[D]ells, b[A]ells, b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells,
with the c[G]lamor and the cl[A]anging of the b[D]ells.
Hear the to[D]lling of the bells, i[G]ron bel[D]ls,
what a world of solemn thought their m[C]onody comp[D]els !
For a[C]ll the s[Em]ound that f[A]loats, from the r[C]ust with[Em]in our th[A]roats,
and the p[C]eople [Em]sit and g[A]roan in their m[C]uffled m[Em]onoto[A]ne.
And the t[D]olling, tolling, t[Bm]olling feels a g[F#m]lory in the r[A]olling,
from the th[D]robbing and the sobbing of the [C]melancholy b[D]ells.
Oh, the b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells, b[A]ells, b[D]ells, b[G]ells, [D]bells,
oh, the m[G]oaning and the gr[A]oaning of the b[D]ells.
Hear the s[D]ledges with the bells, s[G]ilver b[D]ells,
what a world of merriment their m[C]elody foret[D]ells !
How they t[C]inkle, t[Em]inkle, t[A]inkle in the [C]icy [Em]air of [A]night,
all the h[C]eavens s[Em]eem to t[A]winkle with a c[C]rystall[Em]ine deli[A]ght.
Keeping t[D]ime, time, t[Bm]ime with a [F#m]sort of runic r[A]hyme,
from the t[D]intinnabulation that so m[C]usically w[D]ells.
From the b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells, b[A]ells, b[D]ells, b[G]ells, b[D]ells,
from the j[G]ingling and the t[A]inkling of the b[D]ells.
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