“Hell’s Bells, man”!

by illimitableoceanofinexplicability

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The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling,
For you but not for me,
And the little devils how they sing-a-ling-a-ling,
For you but not for me.
Oh death, where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling,
Oh grave, thy victory?
The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling
For you but not for me.

 

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“Hell’s Bells”

I exclaimed, followed quickly with, “man”, in reference to myself who was the only one there, which is, if one is familiar with the rules of this place, not at all surprising.

Why this should be I have asked myself, quietly, of course, for though no one else may be apparent there is always just outside the door, or below the window, but I cannot be bothered to look, so whispering is only prudent.

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