Oh the bells, I carry news that I have got to tell
Hold your head out and you can hear, my baby crying
Peter and Paul, stare at the sky and wait for Jesus to fall
The only sound that they can hear, is my baby crying
Investors of cash, have only years ‘fore a wallstreet crash
Pile up here and throw a big Roman bash in celebration
Bodies Relax, exhale the smoke of trivial facts
Which rises up to smother the sound, of my baby crying
Sometimes I feel like a lover in vain
I failed to protect her from the forces of pain
That so silently pierce her tender heart
My little makes, is an embarrassment to heads of state
In nervous speeches claiming they don’t hear, my baby crying
Rumours are bound, the pedlar went and sold the things that he found
To hipster agents who will market the sound, of my baby crying
Chorus:
Bring out the shroud , the rebel prophet just got stoned by the crowd
That walked away and laughed out loud, at my baby crying
I’m in despair, I hear like a trumpet everywhere
How could I tell myself, that I couldn’t care about
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