Verse 1
Good morrow, friend, how fair the sun doth gleam,
It gilds the cobbled road as in a dream.
I skip through market squares with merry grin,
Whilst every soul doth hide what lies within.
The baker sings, the children chase the breeze,
The old men trade their tales ’neath swaying trees.
I laugh and jest and play the fool with pride,
Yet keep a silent chamber deep inside.
For life doth dance in motley robes of gold,
And every tale hath pages yet untold.
What seemeth bright may cast the longest shade,
And every king shall fade as he was made.
Pre-Chorus
So raise thy cup and let the daylight stay,
For dusk doth stalk behind the brightest day.
Chorus
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
A shadow seeketh tribute from the soul.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
No crown nor coin may shield thee from its call.
Though laughter fill the hall tonight,
The dark remembers every light.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
A shadow seeketh tribute from the soul.
⸻
Verse 2
Now list, my friend, and hear a curious thing,
The sparrow mocks the eagle and the king.
The beggar and the lord do share one fate,
Though one doth feast whilst one doth starve and wait.
I wandered through a thousand merry scenes,
With painted smiles and splendid masquerines.
Yet oft I found beneath the silken thread,
A host of hopes, and fears left cold and dead.
Still, this doth not compel me unto grief,
For sorrow’s reign is but a passing thief.
If night must come, then let it find me loud,
With honest voice amidst the gathered crowd.
Pre-Chorus
So raise thy cup and let the daylight stay,
For dusk doth stalk behind the brightest day.
Chorus
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
A shadow seeketh tribute from the soul.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
No crown nor coin may shield thee from its call.
Though laughter fill the hall tonight,
The dark remembers every light.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
A shadow seeketh tribute from the soul.
⸻
Bridge (rap intensifies)
I walk betwixt the jest and grave,
’Twixt fool and knight, ’twixt lord and knave.
The stars above care not for name,
Yet still we strive and play the game.
What profit hath a man from gold,
If all his gentlest tales go untold?
What profit hath the fairest face,
If none remember love’s embrace?
⸻
Final Chorus (heaviest)
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
A shadow seeketh tribute from the soul.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
No crown nor coin may shield thee from its call.
Yet whilst my breath remaineth mine,
I’ll drink the day as though ’twere wine.
Hark, hark, the bell doth toll!
But fear shall never govern this poor soul.
Outro
So laugh whilst thou hast cause to laugh,
And walk thy road though dark the path.
For life’s brief flame is wondrous still—
A fleeting spark against the hill.
