Mells Bells
Mells' Bells.
Not far from a little town in Somerset called Wells
there's a quiet little village, that's name is Mells
the wild garlic grows in abundance there, and stridently smells
But the peace is shattered each Sunday by bells
Mells' bells, Mells bells,
Oh God they're so loud,
Those great bells of Mells
That ring out so proud.
The noise is so loud the church uses shutters,
To suppress the great volume lest the vicar's heart flutters
And to stop a misery down Radstock who complains and mutters,
And to save those in Green lane, Devizes, as it upsets the "nutters".
Mells Bells, Mells bells,
Oh how they thunder,
Those great bells of Mells,
Rip eardrums asunder.
So beware all you travelers, down Somerset way,
Lest you venture near Radstock upon a Sunday,
Best take your earplugs to wear there they say,
'Cos the Mells bells are well hell, despite what you pray.
Mells Bells, Mells bells,
They'll make you deaf,
Those great bells of Mells
Rung by ringers so deft
(c) Ian Diddams 2018
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