Ringing That Bell - Christy Moore

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