In Liverpool 
On Sunday 
No traffic 
On the avenue 
The light is pale and thin 
Like you 
No sound, down 
In this part of town 
Except for the boy in the belfry 
He's crazy, he's throwing himself 
Down from the top of the tower 
Like a hunchback in heaven 
He's ringing the bells in the church 
For the last half an hour 
He sounds like he's missing something 
Or someone that he knows he can't 
Have now and if he isn't 
I certainly am 
 
Homesick for a clock 
That told the same time 
sometimes you made no sense to me 
if you lie on the ground 
in somebody's arms 
you'll probably swallow some of their history 
 
And the boy in the belfry 
He's crazy, he's throwing himself 
Down from the top of the tower 
Like a hunchback in heaven 
He's ringing the bells in the church 
For the last half an hour 
He sounds like he's missing something 
Or someone that he knows he can't 
Have now and if he isn't 
I certainly am 
 
I'll be the girl who sings for my supper 
You'll be the monk whose forehead is high 
He'll be the man who's already working 
Spreading a memory all through the sky 
 
In Liverpool 
On Sunday 
No reason to even remember you now 
 
Except for the boy in the belfry 
He's crazy, he's throwing himself 
Down from the top of the tower 
Like a hunchback in heaven 
He's ringing the bells in the church 
For the last half an hour 
He sounds like he's missing something 
Or someone that he knows he can't 
Have now and if he isn't 
I certainly am 
 
In Liverpool  [X2]