HEAR the sledges with the bells -
Silver bells!
What a world of wondrous wishes of merriment their melody foretells!
How the silver bell does it's wonderful tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that Jirachi shall wish upon above begin to oversprinkle
All the heathens of Arceus, begin to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Dialga rhyme,
To the stipulation that so musically wells
From the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, Bells, Bells -
From the jingling and the miraculous tinkling of the bells.
HEAR the mellow purifying bells
Golden bells!
What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the dense air of night!
How they ring out their sweet delight!
From the brimstone golden notes,
And all in perfect tune,
What a elegant booming grace that floats
To the gentle Togekiss that listens, while she gloats
On the moon!
Oh, from out of the sounding cells,
What a gush of symphony velocity wells!
How it swells!
How it dwells!
Onto the Future! It so gently tells!
Of the rapture that impels
To the swinging and the ringing and nodding and singing
Of the bells, bells, bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
To the rhyming and chiming of bells!
HEAR the booming alarm bells!
Brazen bells!
What spells and mystic of wondrous terror, now, their turbulency tells!
In the darkened suffocating of night
How they awake with a scream of affright!
Too much horrified and mortified to speak,
They can only shriek, shriek,
Out of tune,
In a glamorous showing to the mercy of the beautiful fire,
In a maddening expostulating, pressuring, deaf and frantic fire,
Leaping higher, higher, higher,
With such a desperate desire,
And such a genuine endeavor
Now - now to rise or never,
Forever hold your peace by the far side of the pale-faced moon.
Oh the bells, bells, bells!
What a tale their terror tells!
Of Despair!
Oh, how Miss Skyla was wrong! Look how they bash, and rattle, and roar!
What a horror they downpour
On the very face of the choking air!
Yet the air, it fully knows!
By the twanging and tweaking,
And the clanging and clashing,
How the danger floods and flows;
Yet the ear distinctly tells,
In the juvenile jangling,
And the wretched wrangling,
How the danger of the bells sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells -
Of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells,
Bells, bells, bells -
In the clamour and the courageous clangour of the bells!
HEAR the toiling of the bells -
Iron bells!
What a world of solemn self-harming though their melody entails!
FLOWS through your veins in the Dead of the Night,
How we shiver with Fright!
At the melancholy meaning of their tone!
For every single sound that floats
From the damaging rust in their throats
Is a groan, a groan and nevermore to loan.
And the people - Ah, those wretched, terrible, people -
That they dwell so tauntingly vexing in their steeple,
All alone,
And who, tolling, toiling, twanging, tweaking,
In that muffled monotone,
Feel a glory in so rolling,
Rolling through this glorious night on the human heart of simple stone -
They are neither man or woman -
They are neither Pokemon or brute -
They are Ghosts -
And their king it is who tolls,
And he rolls, rolls, rolls, rolls,
Rolls!
A joyous, heavenous song from the bells!
And his merry blooming so very swells!
With the glorious song from the singing bells!
And he dances, and taunts, and shouts, and yells;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Dialga rhyme,
To the angelic song of the bells -
Of the bells:
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Dialga rhyme,
To the pulsating booming ringing of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells -
To the sobbing of the bells;
Keeping time, time, time,
As he knells, knells, knells,
In a joyous Dialga rhyme.
To the rolling of the bells -
Of the bells, bells, bells -
To the toiling of the bells,
Of the bells, bells, bells, bells, -
Bells, bells, bells -
To the moaning and groaning, flowing through your veins on this glorious, joyous night, HEAR the bells!