The Bells

The bells that I make ring; they are my loves, they love me well
I want to hear them sing, loud as they swing; my pretty bells
In thunder or hail, or in wind or in rain
Their song will never fail, singing through joy, singing through pain
Bells that ring when we're born, Bells that ring when we die
Bells that ring every day, every night, every hour
Bells that ring when we pray, Bells that ring when we cry
Bells that ring to wake us up when the sun lights the sky.

For the feast of Rameaux, for the Quasimodo
For a bright Christmas day and for the day of all saints
For annunciation, for the resurrection
For St valentine day and for when Good Friday comes.

Celebrations they sing, all processions they ring
The most beautiful day it is the feast of our lord
Days of years, days of kings
Easter day my bells ring
And on Pentecost day they sing with bright tongues of flame.

Confirmation they sing, and communions they ring
Bells that toll for our death; Dies Irae, dies illa
For ascension they sing, for assumption they ring
Bells that bring us hosanna and sing hallelujah.

The bells I hold most dear, of the beauties I have here
They are my Mary's three, all best friends to me
When my little Mary rings, when children die she sets them free
And my big Mary rings, when sailors set forth on the sea
But when my great Mary sings, when lovers exchange wedding rings
Then something in me always cries; then something in me always dies.

To see their happiness, to see their tenderness
When a woman will not give me a single caress
My bells marry and blend, and take wings on the wind
In the midst of the stars up in the vaults of the sky.

All these bells that I sound, Kyrie Elieson
Hosanna Allelujah Dies irae dies illa
Bells that mourn with the sad, bells that laugh with the glad
All these bells that have never not once rung out for me.

The bells that I make ring; they are my loves, such joy they bring
I want to hear them sing, if Esmeralda does still live
To tell the world, that Quasimodo loves Esmeralda.