In Liverpool
On Sunday
No traffic
On the avenue
The light is pale and thin
Like you
No sound, down
In this part of town
Except for the boy in the belfry
Hes crazy, hes throwing himself
Down from the top of the tower
Like a hunchback in heaven
Hes ringing the bells in the church
For the last half an hour
He sounds like hes missing something
Or someone that he knows he cant
Have now and if he isnt
I certainly am
Homesick for a clock
That told the same time
sometimes you made no sense to me
if you lie on the ground
in somebodys arms
youll probably swallow some of their history
And the boy in the belfry
Hes crazy, hes throwing himself
Down from the top of the tower
Like a hunchback in heaven
Hes ringing the bells in the church
For the last half an hour
He sounds like hes missing something
Or someone that he knows he cant
Have now and if he isnt
I certainly am
Ill be the girl who sings for my supper
Youll be the monk whose forehead is high
Hell be the man whos already working
Spreading a memory all through the sky
In Liverpool
On Sunday
No reason to even remember you now
Except for the boy in the belfry
Hes crazy, hes throwing himself
Down from the top of the tower
Like a hunchback in heaven
Hes ringing the bells in the church
For the last half an hour
He sounds like hes missing something
Or someone that he knows he cant
Have now and if he isnt
I certainly am
In Liverpool
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