时间：2026-06-15
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The Bells Beneath The Lake - The Cheeky Celt
Where the water meets the mountain shade,
A church once stood where children played.
The old stone road now slips below,
The dark green depths where no winds blow.
The village drowned, the story stayed,
Beneath the glass of the silent bay.
The bells beneath the lake still ring,
On fog-bound nights when no birds sing.
Their voices rise from far below,
Calling the lost where the deep waters flow.
The bells beneath the lake still chime,
Through drowned-out years and borrowed time.
The fishermen avoid the shore,
When moonlight paints the water silver white.
For some have heard those distant tones,
Floating softly through the night.
And travelers swear they've sometimes seen,
Church windows glowing deep beneath.
If you listen when the mist rolls in,
You'll hear the hymn they never finished.
The bells beneath the lake still ring,
On fog-bound nights when no birds sing.
Their voices rise from far below,
Calling the lost where the deep waters flow.
The bells beneath the lake still chime,
Through drowned-out years and borrowed time.
