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Clean Lyric
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The bell rings . . .
It's a decade past my decadence
My beast wears rings and he's waiting
In the shadows of my hesitations, my silent
Hesitations . . . Each image is so clear;
It seems I have no hands
The gestures of the air confuse all my demands

And the beast hears the bell; he comes
Out of the shadows. He rips apart the shadows . . .
And he says:

"This is work and not play"
And he says:
"There's always more than one way . . .
This is work not play"

Refrain:
I see the ghosts of my childhood . . .
Dressed in blue, they trail me in the night
They drive these cars with real upholstery
They trail me until . . . here comes the night

She was standing, standing on the balcony
Her black, black eyes folded over her eyelids
Like sheets on motel beds . . .
She must be eatin' reds
This place is filled with mirrors
It echoes what she said
And she said:


"I need a judgement day"And she said:
"I know there's more than one way,
But I want my judgement day . . ."

Repeat Refrain

To sleep without dreams
So distant from the mirror
Imitating clarity, disguising
All the terror . . . I heard a thousand bells
From a thousand old cathedrals
They rang . . . I haven't heard them since
A decade past my decadence
The beast hears the bell

I'm cursed to be a singer
A singer of the flames
A thinker of a fire
And a son without a name
The bell rings . . .   It's a decade past my decadence   My beast wears rings and he's waiting   In the shadows of my hesitations, my silent   Hesitations . . . Each image is so clear;   It seems I have no hands   The gestures of the air confuse all my demands      And the beast hears the bell; he comes   Out of the shadows. He rips apart the shadows . . .   And he says:      "This is work and not play"   And he says:   "There's always more than one way . . .   This is work not play"      Refrain:   I see the ghosts of my childhood . . .   Dressed in blue, they trail me in the night   They drive these cars with real upholstery   They trail me until . . . here comes the night      She was standing, standing on the balcony   Her black, black eyes folded over her eyelids   Like sheets on motel beds . . .   She must be eatin' reds   This place is filled with mirrors   It echoes what she said   And she said:         "I need a judgement day"And she said:   "I know there's more than one way,   But I want my judgement day . . ."      Repeat Refrain      To sleep without dreams   So distant from the mirror   Imitating clarity, disguising   All the terror . . . I heard a thousand bells   From a thousand old cathedrals   They rang . . . I haven't heard them since   A decade past my decadence   The beast hears the bell      I'm cursed to be a singer   A singer of the flames   A thinker of a fire   And a son without a name