And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
As the echo of the wedding bells before the blowin' rain
Striking for the gentle, striking for the kind
Tolling for the rebel, tolling for the rake
Tolling for the outcast burnin' constantly at stake
Through the mad mystic hammering of the wild ripping hail
Condemned to drift or else be kept from drifting
For the countless confused, accused, misused, strung-out ones and worse
The sky cracked its poems in naked wonder
For the disrobed faceless forms of no position
Striking for the guardians and protectors of the mind
For the misdemeanor outlaw chained and cheated by pursuit
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Dissolved into the bells of the lightning
Tolling for the luckless, the abandoned and forsaken
In the wild cathedral evening the rain unraveled tales
Flashing for the refugees on the unarmed road of flight
And for each and every underdog soldier in the night
Tolling for the aching whose wounds cannot be nursed
Tolling for the deaf and blind, tolling for the mute
Starry-eyed and laughing, as I recall when we were caught
And for every hung up person in the whole wide universe
As majestic bells of bolts struck shadows in the sounds
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
Spellbound and swallowed till the tolling ended
For the lonesome hearted lovers with too personal a tale
As we listened one last time and we watched with one last look
And the hypnotic splattered mist was slowly lifting
And we gazed upon the chimes of freedom flashing
And for each unharmful, gentle soul misplaced inside a jail
Flashing for the warriors whose strength is not to fight
Even though a cloud's white curtain in a far-off corner flashed
And the poet and the painter far behind his rightful time
Tolling for the searching ones on their speechless seeking trail
Leaving only bells of lightning and its thunder
Electric light still struck like arrows, fired but for the ones
All down in taken for granted situations
Through the city's melted furnace, unexpectedly we watched
Seeming to be the chimes of freedom flashing
Tolling for the tongues with no place to bring their thoughts
Trapped by no track of hours for they hang suspended
With faces hidden as the walls were tightening
For the mistreated, mateless mother, the mistitled prostitute
That the clinging of the church bells blew far into the breeze
