You should go to Hull Guildhall and film those, they play a different tune every 3 hours, a heavy set - largest bell is around 50cwt, there are 25 bells in the tower.
Here is the lyrics for there's nae luck about the house There's no luck about the house There's no luck at all'; There's little pleasure in the house When my gude-man's away'. And are you sure the news is true? And are you sure he's well? Is this a time to think o' work Ye gauds, fling by your wheel! Is this a time to think o' work When Collin's at the door? Rax me my cloak I'll to the quay And see him come ashore. Rise up and make a clean fireside Put on the large pot; Give little Kate her cotton gown And Jock his Sunday coat. And make their shoes as black as slaes Their stockings white as snow; It's a' to pleasure our gudeman He likes to see them handsome. There are two hens into the crib Have fed this month and more, Make haste and thraw their necks about That Collin well may fare. Bring down to me my bigonet My bishop-satin gown, And then gae tell the Bailie's wife That Collin's come to town. Sae sweet his voice, sae smooth his tongue His breath's like healthy air; His very tread has music in't As he comes up the stair. And will I see his face again And will I hear him speak? I'm downright dizzy wi' the joy In truth I'm like to weep.
You should go to Hull Guildhall and film those, they play a different tune every 3 hours, a heavy set - largest bell is around 50cwt, there are 25 bells in the tower.
Here is the lyrics for there's nae luck about the house
There's no luck about the house
There's no luck at all';
There's little pleasure in the house
When my gude-man's away'.
And are you sure the news is true?
And are you sure he's well?
Is this a time to think o' work
Ye gauds, fling by your wheel!
Is this a time to think o' work
When Collin's at the door?
Rax me my cloak I'll to the quay
And see him come ashore.
Rise up and make a clean fireside
Put on the large pot;
Give little Kate her cotton gown
And Jock his Sunday coat.
And make their shoes as black as slaes
Their stockings white as snow;
It's a' to pleasure our gudeman
He likes to see them handsome.
There are two hens into the crib
Have fed this month and more,
Make haste and thraw their necks about
That Collin well may fare.
Bring down to me my bigonet
My bishop-satin gown,
And then gae tell the Bailie's wife
That Collin's come to town.
Sae sweet his voice, sae smooth his tongue
His breath's like healthy air;
His very tread has music in't
As he comes up the stair.
And will I see his face again
And will I hear him speak?
I'm downright dizzy wi' the joy
In truth I'm like to weep.
Chime starts at 1:19,strike starts at 1:56 and music starts at 2:22
1:19