The Bells of St. Thomas

I wake up in Antwerp

In some rich woman's bed

There's a man with a hammer

Inside of my head

She says, "I couldn't wake you

I thought you were dead

But you talked in your sleep

I don't know what you said"

I look in the mirror

My eyes bleeding red

There's a taste in my mouth

Of stale brandy and lead

Don't know how I got here

Or if I was led

But I know it's a Sunday

For the bells in my head

As they call to the faithful

The quick and the dead

The last days of judgement upon us

And the bells on the roof of St. Thomas

Are calling

She says, "Are you hungry?

You look underfed"

"No, I'd better be going

I'll have coffee instead"

"Let me give you some money"

I say, "There's no need

You don't owe me nothing

It's what we agreed"

But the room's like a palace

In a book I once read

And the words that I'm thinking

Would be better unsaid

I search for my clothes

Then she asks if I'll stay

"There's a room for you here

My husband's away"

The bells of St. Thomas

Are aching with doubt

They're cracked and they're broken

Like the earth in a drought

I've searched for their meaning

I just never found out

Whatever they're expecting from us

Or why the bells on the roof of St. Thomas

Are crying

I walk to the church, though it's empty by now

The roof like an overturned ship, and a prow

For a pulpit, and there it is upon the wall

St. Thomas inspecting the wounds for us all

It's a painting by Rubens

Painted from life

And it's flanked by a rich man

And his elegant wife

The wounds we all share

And yet still need the proof

You can feign your indifference

Pretend you're aloof

But the wounds we're denying are there all the same

And the bells of St. Thomas start ringing again

The saint I was named for

The sceptical brother

The rich man's wife

In the arms of another

And the exit wounds

Of a love that's gone wrong

She said she was leaving

But she'd already gone

And the last days of judgement are finally upon on us

And the bells on the roof of St. Thomas

Are calling