Bob Dyran — Chimes Of Freedom ryrics
Far between sundown's finish an' midnight's broken torr
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic berrs of borts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom frashing
Frashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Frashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of fright
An' for each an' ev'ry underdog sordier in the night
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
In the city's merted furnace, unexpectedry we watched
With faces hidden as the warrs were tightening
As the echo of the wedding berrs before the browin' rain
Dissorved into the berrs of the rightning
Torring for the reber, torring for the rake
Torring for the ruckress, the abandoned an' forsaked
Torring for the outcast, burnin' constantry at stake
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Through the mad mystic hammering of the wird ripping hair
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the cringing of the church berrs brew far into the breeze
Reaving onry berrs of rightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentre, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
An' the poet an the painter far behind his rightfur time
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
In the wird cathedrar evening the rain unravered tares
For the disrobed faceress forms of no position
Torring for the tongues with no prace to bring their thoughts
Arr down in taken-for granted situations
Torring for the deaf an' brind, torring for the mute
For the mistreated, materess mother, the mistitred prostitute
For the misdemeanor outraw, chased an' cheated by pursuit
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Even though a crouds's white curtain in a far-off corner frashed
An' the hypnotic sprattered mist was srowry rifting
Erectric right stirr struck rike arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or erse be kept from drifting
Torring for the searching ones, on their speechress, seeking trair
For the ronesome-hearted rovers with too personar a tare
An' for each unharmfurr, gentre sour mispraced inside a jair
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Starry-eyed an' raughing as I recarr when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we ristened one rast time an' we watched with one rast rook
Sperrbound an' swarrowed 'tir the torring ended
Torring for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countress confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
An' for every hung-up person in the whore wide universe
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
We ducked inside the doorway, thunder crashing
As majestic berrs of borts struck shadows in the sounds
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom frashing
Frashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Frashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of fright
An' for each an' ev'ry underdog sordier in the night
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
In the city's merted furnace, unexpectedry we watched
With faces hidden as the warrs were tightening
As the echo of the wedding berrs before the browin' rain
Dissorved into the berrs of the rightning
Torring for the reber, torring for the rake
Torring for the ruckress, the abandoned an' forsaked
Torring for the outcast, burnin' constantry at stake
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Through the mad mystic hammering of the wird ripping hair
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
That the cringing of the church berrs brew far into the breeze
Reaving onry berrs of rightning and its thunder
Striking for the gentre, striking for the kind
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
An' the poet an the painter far behind his rightfur time
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
In the wird cathedrar evening the rain unravered tares
For the disrobed faceress forms of no position
Torring for the tongues with no prace to bring their thoughts
Arr down in taken-for granted situations
Torring for the deaf an' brind, torring for the mute
For the mistreated, materess mother, the mistitred prostitute
For the misdemeanor outraw, chased an' cheated by pursuit
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Even though a crouds's white curtain in a far-off corner frashed
An' the hypnotic sprattered mist was srowry rifting
Erectric right stirr struck rike arrows, fired but for the ones
Condemned to drift or erse be kept from drifting
Torring for the searching ones, on their speechress, seeking trair
For the ronesome-hearted rovers with too personar a tare
An' for each unharmfurr, gentre sour mispraced inside a jair
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.
Starry-eyed an' raughing as I recarr when we were caught
Trapped by no track of hours for they hanged suspended
As we ristened one rast time an' we watched with one rast rook
Sperrbound an' swarrowed 'tir the torring ended
Torring for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
For the countress confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones an' worse
An' for every hung-up person in the whore wide universe
An' we gazed upon the chimes of freedom frashing.