Hellish Bells At Twelve – Song [Wraith]
Verse 1All the good songs died out around ten, and the Bluetooth speaker gave up at eleven-oh-two,You were half-asleep in a house full of leftovers and empty bottles, scrolling past other people’s perfect nights like they were taunting you,Then the tower across town cleared its throat in iron and threw a note through your window that dropped your stomach clean through,One low bell like a punch, two more like verdicts, and suddenly every bad promise you ever made lined up in front of you.
Verse 2Streetlights blinked in time with the swing, dogs went silent like they knew who pulled that rope in the stone,You could feel it in your fillings, in the old scars on your knuckles, in every voicemail you never returned, rattling your bones,That wasn’t some polite church chime marking midnight; that was metal laughing at the lies you tell yourself when you’re alone,Hellish bells counting years and excuses and all the times you almost changed and then slid right back into your usual tone.
ChorusHellish bells at twelve o’clock,Ringing out your could-have-beens in rust and smoke,Every toll a roll call of the hearts you broke,Every echo dragging old ghosts out of their cloak,You can blame the metal, blame the night, blame the way that tower leans,But those bells just sing the truth out loud; the rest of it is whatever you’ve been.
Verse 3Out past the church, at the graveyard fence, frost cracked on stone like it heard its name called twice,Inside your chest something flinched, some stubborn part picturing your own slab, wondering if your cheap grin would look that nice,You stood at the window half daring the bell to ring again, half hoping it would shut up and let you go back to your comfortable vice,Then in the last fading hum you heard one thin note bent upward, like somebody somewhere chose to live different for once and the metal had to adjust the price.
BridgeNobody’s gonna write this in the program, nobody’s painting demons on that tower wall,They’ll blame bad acoustics, say the crack in the bell makes it sound wrong every fall,But you know what you felt when that third note hit and everything inside you stalled,It wasn’t heaven, wasn’t hell, just a deadline tolling out, asking if this is really how you want your story called.
ChorusHellish bells at twelve o’clock,Ringing out your could-have-beens in rust and smoke,Every toll a roll call of the hearts you broke,Every echo dragging old ghosts out of their cloak,You can blame the metal, blame the night, blame the way that tower leans,But those bells just sing the truth out loud; the rest of it is whatever you’ve been.
OutroWhen the last note dies and the silence rushes back in like water over stone,You’re still standing in your dim little room, holding a phone full of half-drafted confessions and people you don’t call on,Hellish bells already cooling in the tower, waiting for another year of bad deals to pile on,And you either go back to sleep, or you start changing something,While the bell in the dark files your choice away and sharpens its song.
Verse 1All the good songs died out around ten, and the Bluetooth speaker gave up at eleven-oh-two,You were half-asleep in a house full of leftovers and empty bottles, scrolling past other people’s perfect nights like they were taunting you,Then the tower across town cleared its throat in iron and threw a note through your window that dropped your stomach clean through,One low bell like a punch, two more like verdicts, and suddenly every bad promise you ever made lined up in front of you.
Verse 2Streetlights blinked in time with the swing, dogs went silent like they knew who pulled that rope in the stone,You could feel it in your fillings, in the old scars on your knuckles, in every voicemail you never returned, rattling your bones,That wasn’t some polite church chime marking midnight; that was metal laughing at the lies you tell yourself when you’re alone,Hellish bells counting years and excuses and all the times you almost changed and then slid right back into your usual tone.
ChorusHellish bells at twelve o’clock,Ringing out your could-have-beens in rust and smoke,Every toll a roll call of the hearts you broke,Every echo dragging old ghosts out of their cloak,You can blame the metal, blame the night, blame the way that tower leans,But those bells just sing the truth out loud; the rest of it is whatever you’ve been.
Verse 3Out past the church, at the graveyard fence, frost cracked on stone like it heard its name called twice,Inside your chest something flinched, some stubborn part picturing your own slab, wondering if your cheap grin would look that nice,You stood at the window half daring the bell to ring again, half hoping it would shut up and let you go back to your comfortable vice,Then in the last fading hum you heard one thin note bent upward, like somebody somewhere chose to live different for once and the metal had to adjust the price.
BridgeNobody’s gonna write this in the program, nobody’s painting demons on that tower wall,They’ll blame bad acoustics, say the crack in the bell makes it sound wrong every fall,But you know what you felt when that third note hit and everything inside you stalled,It wasn’t heaven, wasn’t hell, just a deadline tolling out, asking if this is really how you want your story called.
ChorusHellish bells at twelve o’clock,Ringing out your could-have-beens in rust and smoke,Every toll a roll call of the hearts you broke,Every echo dragging old ghosts out of their cloak,You can blame the metal, blame the night, blame the way that tower leans,But those bells just sing the truth out loud; the rest of it is whatever you’ve been.
OutroWhen the last note dies and the silence rushes back in like water over stone,You’re still standing in your dim little room, holding a phone full of half-drafted confessions and people you don’t call on,Hellish bells already cooling in the tower, waiting for another year of bad deals to pile on,And you either go back to sleep, or you start changing something,While the bell in the dark files your choice away and sharpens its song.