Stealing glances through the key hole. In a brick wall's wooden door. Changes are keeping quite secrets. Two hundred year old folklore. And the graveyard on Elizabeth. No one ever goes. Kneeling praying to a gravestone. But the gravestone never tells. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. December crossing on to Chinatown. As the wind starts to cut through. Always always on the lookout. But the poisons running through you. Stomachaches try to concentrate. Want the stairs on the third floor. Now I'm asking a witch doctor. But the witch doctor won't tell. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. Floating on the sea stars are watching me. Current takes me out what will be will be. Floating on the sea stars are watching me. Current takes me out what will be will be. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. Hear the bells. Hear the bells