Stroll through the church of the Pennine foothills
All ye who hath sinned
Dance to the chimes of the Devil’s music
The bells of the old north wind
Knife your heart in the icicle chamber
All your prayers got binned
Each dead toll will slice you through
The bells of the old north wind
Rest ye a while at the upland altar
Keep your neck scarf pinned
Nowhere to run when they ring out
The bells of the old north wind
Hardened men of Lancastrian backbone
Campanile mischief skinned
They’re rolling over the moors again
The bells of the old north wind
Southerners scarper whence ye came
Your spirits kicked and shinned
Our winter nights be your last rites
The bells of the old north wind
All ye who hath sinned
Dance to the chimes of the Devil’s music
The bells of the old north wind
Knife your heart in the icicle chamber
All your prayers got binned
Each dead toll will slice you through
The bells of the old north wind
Rest ye a while at the upland altar
Keep your neck scarf pinned
Nowhere to run when they ring out
The bells of the old north wind
Hardened men of Lancastrian backbone
Campanile mischief skinned
They’re rolling over the moors again
The bells of the old north wind
Southerners scarper whence ye came
Your spirits kicked and shinned
Our winter nights be your last rites
The bells of the old north wind
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