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Bells of the Black Sunday

Sung by:

Paul Sorvino


LyricsEdit

God

Down, down yonder, where the handle pans
In bowls of dust and throats of sand

With stammer jaws and hands of gauze and rust
They beg for a gool ol' song like a dog for crust

"Master, master, revive us a tale
Of the dandy ol' harvester what done lived in the vale
Oh, please, won'tcha, won'tcha, master, master, turn back the page
When the land was plum an' green and we got 'shine and wage?
Yes, we got 'shine and wage"

'Shine and wage?!
Now what do you think, children, do you think they deserve 'shine and wage?

Heed the story of The Swallow And The Other Birds
And the selfish and wicked harvester
Who pillaged the grains and poisoned the plains
'Til it drew from the vein of my vengeance

Cast from the highlands, my twisted black rollers came howling,
Lashing the faithless in spirals of dust, cloud, and sand.
The wicked harvester
Tempted the Heavens, now broken and barren his land

After a fall, I lifted my wings out of mercy
Generous me, but country dogs lack common sense
The wicked harvester
With seed bags went fixing to sow a further offense

How is my heart so forgiving?
My kindness could swallow you whole

God and His Ladies of Virtue

Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest bells of The Black Sunday toll
Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest bells of The Black Sunday toll

God

Seedlings were sown by the plow where a flock of birds nested
The wisest among them squawked "Peck every seed from the soot
The wicked harvester
Will be of our ruin if these bitter morsels take root"

Heedless, the little birds cackled and scoffed at their elders
But seeds grew to fiber and braided a venomous net
The wicked harvester
Captured the half-witted flock as they wept in regret

How is my heart so forgiving?
My kindness could swallow you whole

God and His Ladies of Virtue

Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest bells of The Black Sunday toll
Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest...

God

Ding-dang-ding!

How is my song so beguiling?
These pipes, they could swallow you whole

God and His Ladies of Virtue

Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest bells of The Black Sunday toll
Pluck the seeds of evil by rake and by fist lest bells of The Black Sunday toll

God

Down, down, down come the winds
Round, round, round goes the dust
Black, black black is the Sunday

Crash, crash with the drums
Weep, weep, weep, wails the fife
Black, black, black!

Down, down, down come the winds
Round, round, round goes the dust
Black, black black is the Sunday, Alleluia!

God and Heaven

Crash, crash, crash with the drums (All children of Heaven sing, Alleluia!)
Weep, weep, weep, wails the fife (Borne of blood and cast of wing, Alleluia!)
Black, black, black is the Sunday, Alleluia! (Alleluia! Alleluia! Always Alleluia!)

Down, down, down come the winds (Hew The Word in hallowed halls, Alleluia!)
Round, round, round goes the dust (All good children never fall, Alleluia!)
Black, black black is the Sunday, Alleluia! (Alleluia! Alleluia! Always Alleluia!)

God

Black, black black is the Sunday, Alleluia!
Alleluia!

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