Dark Moor - Bells Of Notre Dame Lyrics
Born in a sorry cot, left on the stairs of the cold stone;Damned to be scorned, in darkness, damned to be alone;Taken by the church, his soul will be slave of God;In the belfrys beauty is his figure something odd.We see the hunchback in Notre DameDancing on the tallest towersArcades and spires, filling his heart,Deep like the choir, fine like the artIs the place my cell, is it?Is Gods home my hell?Oh, my body prisions my poor soul,Untill i toll!CHORUSI am grim, full of gloomIn my dim gothic tombBut the bells in my heart chime for everWith the ding that belongsTo the king of their songsIm the sound of Notre DameIn the wheel of life he is a horror for the crowd,When will be the time hell see the sun between the clouds?Looking at the bells he think about his tragic fateWants to be a rock or metal like his soulless matesWe hear the hunchback in Notre DameCrying on the tallest towersGargoyles and columns, his relity;Chants wich are solemn, his agonyIs the place my cell, is it?Is Gods home my hell?Oh, my body imprisons my poor soulUntil i toll!CHORUS
