I met her in the Strand
Readin' books to beat the band
We got talkin' about the Tropic of Capricorn
And all the things therein
Includin' sex and drugs and gin
So I asked her if she'd fancy a libation?
She said she didn't mind
She was just out killin' time
Her husband wouldn't be home 'til the morning
"Is that a fact?" says I,
"I got the very place in mind"
So we went waltzin' off down to the Bells of Hell
There were drinks and eyebrows raised
When we stepped into the haze
Every blaggard at the bar was gettin' plastered
And mentally undressin'
My love's Yves St. Laurent fashions
I could tell that I was treadin' on disaster
Ah, Malachy, me dear,
What kind of joint are you runnin' here
There's a fellah in a dress givin' me the once over
"My good man have no fear
That's a bishop from the County Clare
Everyone's welcome down the Bells of Hell."
Lester Bangs is on the floor
And there's a couple of Seventh Avenue whores
Explaining life to Billy Altman in the corner
Dennis Duggan's in a suit
And Nancy Whiskey's on the jukebox
Peter Myers is cuttin' loose down the Bells of Hell.
There's a band in the back room
With a wild man playin' the moog synthesizer
Like he's screwin' a couple of banshees
And a red haired bollocks with glasses
Ah, he's beatin' the bejaysus
Out of some poor innocent guitar, that place was crazy.
They were singin' "The Girl Next Door"
When my love said "aren't they just adorable
The red haired one suggested something interesting, if rather intimate."
Just then the bishop in the dress
Took me in a firm embrace
And I passed out cold down at the Bells of Hell
When I returned from space
Nick Tosches was moistenin' my face
Lookin' pleased as punch, I knew exactly what that fellah'd been up to
My love looked like a mess
She was fixin' up her dress
Nick winked, "hey, kid, you'll write a song about this someday when you're sober"
It was gettin' on for dawn
She said, "I think my husband will be home
But thank you for such a literary evening."
"You're very welcome, dear, please come again
We always do the best we can
Everyone's coming down the Bells of Hell."
I wish I could go back down to the Bells of Hell
Ah, Malachy, take me back down to the Bells of Hell.
Readin' books to beat the band
We got talkin' about the Tropic of Capricorn
And all the things therein
Includin' sex and drugs and gin
So I asked her if she'd fancy a libation?
She said she didn't mind
She was just out killin' time
Her husband wouldn't be home 'til the morning
"Is that a fact?" says I,
"I got the very place in mind"
So we went waltzin' off down to the Bells of Hell
There were drinks and eyebrows raised
When we stepped into the haze
Every blaggard at the bar was gettin' plastered
And mentally undressin'
My love's Yves St. Laurent fashions
I could tell that I was treadin' on disaster
Ah, Malachy, me dear,
What kind of joint are you runnin' here
There's a fellah in a dress givin' me the once over
"My good man have no fear
That's a bishop from the County Clare
Everyone's welcome down the Bells of Hell."
Lester Bangs is on the floor
And there's a couple of Seventh Avenue whores
Explaining life to Billy Altman in the corner
Dennis Duggan's in a suit
And Nancy Whiskey's on the jukebox
Peter Myers is cuttin' loose down the Bells of Hell.
There's a band in the back room
With a wild man playin' the moog synthesizer
Like he's screwin' a couple of banshees
And a red haired bollocks with glasses
Ah, he's beatin' the bejaysus
Out of some poor innocent guitar, that place was crazy.
They were singin' "The Girl Next Door"
When my love said "aren't they just adorable
The red haired one suggested something interesting, if rather intimate."
Just then the bishop in the dress
Took me in a firm embrace
And I passed out cold down at the Bells of Hell
When I returned from space
Nick Tosches was moistenin' my face
Lookin' pleased as punch, I knew exactly what that fellah'd been up to
My love looked like a mess
She was fixin' up her dress
Nick winked, "hey, kid, you'll write a song about this someday when you're sober"
It was gettin' on for dawn
She said, "I think my husband will be home
But thank you for such a literary evening."
"You're very welcome, dear, please come again
We always do the best we can
Everyone's coming down the Bells of Hell."
I wish I could go back down to the Bells of Hell
Ah, Malachy, take me back down to the Bells of Hell.