Turn The Bells Lyrics - Ritual - White Lies

The market-place has nothing to sell 

Left alone its awnings shiver 

Wind whilstles through the wood 

Fish teeth snapping in a river 

Peaks puncture the sky 

Like a child's icy toes 

Dipped in a stream 

That a few of us know 

And the clouds just a ripple? 

A shock from the impact? 

Shadows on the streets 

Look like veils at morning 

Ice blots in the stone cracks 

Where tears have fallen 

Oil by the bucket feeds flares to the heavens 

Offerings of incense, small bills and lemons 

Drumbeats in the caves and hearbeats in the huts 

Protectors unveiled for the first time in months 

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You find some best friends 

We'll hold each other 

And I'll turn the bells 

I'll turn the bells 

The storm clouds pass, and everything's for sale 

The chattering of rapids, and the bartering of sunset 

Beads crunch like bones, through fingers and knuckles 

Poor hands pick cheap Quartz, in the quarries and cliff-ledge 

A group of sandalwood trees, with clotted blood covered dark 

The biker gangs smoking, on the edge of the lake 

The smoke like white horses, a white-eyed mistake 

There's spirits in the water, like photos in a box 

They're torn by the current, and crushed by the rocks 

You find some best friends 

We'll hold each other 

And I'll turn the bells 

I'll turn the bells