СОДЕРЖАНИЕ 1. "THIS WAS" 3 2. "STAND UP" 4 3. "BENEFIT" 5 4. "AQUALUNG" 6 4.1. AQUALUNG 6 188.8.131.52.Aqualung 6 184.108.40.206.Cross Eyed Mary 7 220.127.116.11.Cheap Day Return 7 18.104.22.168.Mother Goose 8 22.214.171.124.Wond'ring Aloud 8 126.96.36.199.Up To Me 9 4.2. MY GOD 10 188.8.131.52.My God 10 184.108.40.206.Hymn 43 10 220.127.116.11.Slipstream 11 18.104.22.168.Locomotive Breath 11 22.214.171.124.Wind Up 11 5. "LIVING IN THE PAST" 13 5.1. Living in the Past 13 6. "THICK AS A BRICK" 14 7. "A PASSION PLAY" 15 8. "WARCHILD" 16 9. "MINSTREL IN THE GALLERY 17 9.1. Minstrel in the Gallery 17 9.2. Cold Wind to Valhalla 18 9.3. Black Satin Dancer 18 9.4. Requiem 18 9.5. One White Duck / 0e10 = Nothing at All 19 9.6. Baker Street Muse 20 126.96.36.199.Pig-Me And The Whore 20 188.8.131.52.Crash-Barrier Waltzer 21 184.108.40.206.Mother England Reverie 21 9.7. Grace 22 10. "TOO OLD TO ROCK'N'ROLL: TOO YOUNG TO DIE" 23 10.1. Quizz Kid 23 10.2. Crazed Institution 24 10.3. Salamander 24 10.4. Taxi Grab 25 10.5. From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser 25 10.6. Bad-Eyed and Loveless 25 10.7. Big Dipper 26 10.8. Too Old to Rock'n'Roll: Too Young to Die 26 10.9. Pied Piper 27 10.10. The Chequered Flag (Dead or Alive) 28 11. "SONGS FROM THE WOOD" 29 12. "HEAVY HORSES" 30 12.1. ...And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps 30 12.2. Acres Wild 30 12.3. No Lullaby 31 12.4. Moths 32 12.5. Journeyman 32 12.6. Rover 33 12.7. One Brown Mouse 33 12.8. Heavy Horses 34 12.9. Weathercock 35 13. "BURSTING OUT" 36 14. "STORMWATCH" 37 15. "A" 38 16. "THE BROADSWORD AND THE BEAST" 39 16.1. Beastie 39 16.2. Clasp 40 16.3. Fallen on Hard Times 40 16.4. Flying Colours 41 16.5. Slow Marching Band 41 16.6. Broadsword 42 16.7. Pussy Willow 42 16.8. Wathing Me Watching You 42 16.9. Seal Driver 43 16.10. Cheerio 43 17. "UNDER WRAPS" 44 18. "CREST OF KNAVE" 45
(p) 1968 1. My Sunday Feelin 2. Someday the Sun Won't Shine for You 3. Beggars Farm 4. Move on Along 5. Serenade to a Cuckoo 6. Dharma for One 7. It's Breakin Me Up 8. Cat's Squirrell (trad.) 9. A Song for a Jeffrey 10. Round (Chrysalis)
(p) 1969 1. A New Day Yesterday 2. Jeffrey Goes to Leicester Square 3. Bouree 4. Back to the Family 5. Look into the Sun 6. Nothing is Easy 7. Fat Man 8. We Used to Know 9. Reason for Waiting 10. For a Thousand Mothers (Chrysalis)
(p) 1970 1. With You There to Help Me 2. Nothing to Say 3. Inside 4. Son 5. For Michael Collins, Jeffrey and Me 6. To Cry You a Song 7. A Time for Everything? 8. Teacher 9. Plag in Time 10. Sossity; You're a Woman (Chrysalis CHR 1043) 6 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1971 1. Aqualung 2. Cross-eyed Mary 3. Cheap Day Return 4. Mother Goose 5. Woud'ring Aloud 6. Up to Me 7. My God 8. Hymn 43 9. Slipstream 10. Locomotive Breath 11. Wind-Up (Chrysalis)
Sitting on a park bench = eyeing up little girls with bad intent. Snot running down his nose = greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes. Drying in the cold sun = watching as the frilly panties run. Feeling like a dead duck = spitting out pieces of his broken luck. Sun streaking cold = an old man wandering lonely. Taking time the only way he knows. Leg hurting bad, as he bends to pick a dog=end = goes down to the bog to warm his feet. Feeling alone = the army's up the road salvation a la mode and a cup of tea. Aqualung my friend = don't start away uneasy you poor old sod You see it's only me. Do you still remember December's foggy freeze = when the ice that clings on to your beard is screaming agony. And you snatch your rattling last breaths with deep=sea=diver sounds, and the flowers bloom like 7 ** Jethro Tull ***. madness in the spring.
220.127.116.11. Cross=Eyed Marу
Who would be a poor man a beggarman, a thief= if he had a rich man in his hand. Who would steal the candy from a laughing baby's mouth if he could take it from the money man. Cross=eyed Mary goes jumping in again. She signs no contract but she always plays the game. Dines in Hampstead village on expense accounted gruel, and the jack knife barber drops her off at school. Laughing in the playground= gets no kicks from little boys: would rather make it with a letching grey. Or maybe her attention is drawn by Aqualung, who watches through the railings as they play. Cross=eyed Mary finds it hard to get along. She's a poor man's rich girl and she'll do it for a song. She's a rich man stealer but her favour's good and strong: she's the Robin Hood of Highgate= helps the poor man get along.
18.104.22.168. Cheap Day Returп
On Preston platform do your soft shoe shuffle dance. Brush away the cigarette ash that's falling down your pants. And you sadly wonder does the nurse treat your old man the way she should. She made you tea: asked for your autograph= what a laugh. 8 ** Jethro Tull ***.
22.214.171.124. Mother Goosе
As I did walk by Hampstead Fair. I came upon Mother Goose = so I turned her loose = she was screaming. And a foreign student said to me = was it really true there are elephants and lions too In Piccadilly Circus. Walked down by the bathing pond to try and catch some sun. Saw at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing into handkerchiefs as one. I don't believe they knew I was a schoolboy. And a bearded lady said to me = if you start your raving and your misbehaving = you'll be sorry. Then the chicken=fancier came to play = with his long red beard (and his sister's weird: she drives a lorry). Laughed down by the putting green = I popped 'em in their holes. Four and twenty labourers were labouring = digging up their gold. I don't believe they knew that I was Long John Silver. Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds in his jet=black mac (which he won't give back). Stole it from a snow man.
126.96.36.199. Wond'ring Aloud
Wond'ring aloud = how we feel today. Last night sipped the sunset = my hand in her hair. We are our own saviours as we start both our herts beating life into each other. Wond'ring aloud = will the years treat us well. As she floats in the kitchen, I'm tasting the smell of toast as the butter runs. Then she comes, spilling crumbs on the bed and I shake my head. And it's only the giving that makes you what you are. 9 ** Jethro Tull ***.
188.8.131.52. Up To Ме
Take you to the cinema and leave you in a Wimpy Bar you tell me that we've gone too far = come running up to me. Make the scene at Cousin Jack's = leave him to put the bottles back = mends his glasses that I cracked = well that's one up to me. Buy a silver cloud to ride = pack the tennis club inside = trouser cuffs hung far too wide well it was up to me. Tyres down on your bicycle = your nose feels like an icicle = the yellow fingered smoky girl is looking up to me. Well I'm a common working man with a half of bitter=bread and jam and if it pleases me I'll put one on you man = when the copper fades away. The rainy season comes to pass = the day=glo pirate sinks at last = and if I laughed a bit too fast. Wall it was up to me. 10 ** Jethro Tull ***.
4.2. MY GOD
184.108.40.206. My God
People = what have you done = locked Him in His golden cage. Made Him bend to your religion = Him resurrected from the grave. He is the God of nothing = if that's all that you can see. You are the God of everything = He's a part of you and me. So lean upon Him gently and don't call on Him to save you from your social graces and the sins you wish to waive. The bloody Church of England = in chains of history = requests your earthly presence at the vicarage for tea. And the graven image you=know=who= he's got him fixed = with His plastic crucifix = confuses me as to who and where and why = as to how He gets His kicks. Confessing to the endless sin = the endless whining sounds. You'll be praying till next Thursday to all the Gods that you can count.
220.127.116.11. Hymn 43
Oh Father high in heaven = smile down upon your son who's busy with his money games = his women and his gun. And the unsung Western Hero killed an indian or three and made his name in Hollywood to set the white man free. If Jesus saves = well, He'd better save Himself from the gory glory seeker's who use His name in death. I saw Him in the city and on the mountains of the moon = his cross was rather bloody=He could hardly roll His stone 11 ** Jethro Tull ***.
Well the lush separation enfolds you = and the products of wealth push you along the bow wave of their spiritless undying selves. And you press on God's waiter your last dime = as He hands you the bill. And you spin in the slipstream = tideless = unreasoning = paddle right out of the mess.
18.104.22.168. Locomotive Breath
In the shuffling madness of the locomotive breath, runs the all=time loser, headlong to his death. He feels the piston scraping = steam breaking on his brow = old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going = no way to slow down. He sees his children jumping off at stations = one by one. His woman and his best friend = in bed and having fun. Crawling down the corridor on his hands and knees = old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going = no way to slow down. He hears the silence howling = catches angels as they fall. And the all=time winner has got him by the balls. He picks up Gideons Bible = open at page one = Old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going = no way to slow down.
22.214.171.124. Wind Uр
When I was young, they packed me off to school and taught me how not to play the game. I didn't mind if they groomed me for success, or if they said that I was just a fool. So I left there in the morning with their God tucked underneath my arm = their half=assed smiles and the book of rules. So I asked this God a question and by way of firm reply, He said = I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares); 12 ** Jethro Tull ***. before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers= I don't believe you: you got the whole damn thing all wrong = He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school and have all the bishops harmonize these lines = how do you dare to tell me that I'm my Father's son when that was just an accident of Birth. I'd rather look around me = compose a better song 'cos that's the honest measure of my worth. In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man that me, as you lick the boots of death born out of fear. 13 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1971 1. Song for Jeffrey (see "This Was") 2. Love Story 3. Christmas Song 4. Living in the Past 5. Driving Song 6. Bouree (see "Stand Up") 7. Sweet Dream 8. Singing All Day 9. Tacher (see "Benefit") 10. Witches Promise 11. Inside (see "Benefit") 12. Just Trying to Be 13. By Kind Permisson Of 14. Dharma for One (see "This Was") 15. Wond'ring again 16. Locomotive Breath (see "Aqualung") 17. Life is a Long Song 18. Up the 'Pool 19. Dr Bogenbroom 20. For Later 21. Nursie (Chrysalis)
5.1. Living in the Past
Happy and I'm smiling Walk a mile to drink your water You know I'd love to love you And above you there's no other We'll go walking out While others shout of war's disaster Oh, we won't give in, Let's go living in the past Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution But they don't know what they's fighting Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh we won't give in We'll keep living in the past 14 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1972 (Chrysalis) 15 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1973 (Chrysalis) 16 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1974 1. WarChild 2. Queen and Country 3. Ladies 4. Back-door Angels 5. SeaLion 6. Skating Away on the Thin Ice of the New Day 7. Bungle in the Jungle 8. Only Solitaire 9. The Third Hoorah 10. Two Fingers (Chrysalis CHR 1067) 17 ** Jethro Tull ***.
9. "MINSTREL IN THE GALLERY
(p) 1975 1. Minstrel in the Gallery 2. Cold Wind to Valhalla 3. Black Satin Dancer 4. Requiem 5. One White Duck / 0e10 = Nothing at All 6. Baker Street Muse including: Pig-Me & the Whore Nice Little Tune Crash-Barrier Waltzer Mother England Reverie 7. Grace (Chrysalis)
9.1. Minstrel in the Gallerу
The Minstrel in the Gallery looked down upon the smiling faces. He met the gazes -- observed the spaces between the old men's cackle. He brewed a song of love and hatred -- oblique suggestions -- and he waited. He polarized the pumpkin-eaters -- static-humming panel-beaters -- freshly day-glo'd factory cheaters (salaried and collar-scrubbing). He titillated men-of-action -- belly warming, hands still rubbing on the parts they never mention. He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating one-line jokers -- T.V.documentary makers (over-fed and undertakers). Sunday paper backgammon players -- family-scarred and women-haters. Then he called the band down to the stage and he looked at all the friend's he'd made. C_h_o_r_u_s The Ministrel in the Gallery looked down on the rabbit-run. And threw away his looking-glass -- saw his face in everyone. 18 ** Jethro Tull ***.
9.2. Cold Wind to Valhallа
And ride with us young bonny lass -- With the angels of the night. Crack wind clatter -- flash rein bite on an out-size unicorn. Rough-shod winging sky blue flight on a Cold Wind to Valhalla. And join with us please -- Valkyrie maidens cry above the Cold Wind to Valhalla. Break fast with the Gods. Night angels serve with ice-bound majesty. Frozen flaking fish raw nerve -- In a cup of silver liquid fire. Moon jet brave beam split ceiling swerve and light the old Valhalla. Come join with us please -- Valkyrie maidens cry above the Cold Wind to Valhalla. The heroes rest upon the sighs of Thor's trusty hand-maidens. Midnight lonely whisper cries, "We're getting a bit short on heroes lately". Sword snap fright white pale goodbyes in the desolation of Valhalla. And join with us please -- Valkyrie maidens ride empty-handed on the Cold Wind to Valhalla.
9.3. Black Satin Dancer
Come, let me play with you, Black Satin Dancer. In all your giving, given is the answer. Tearing life from limb and looking sweeter than the brightest flower in my garden. Begging your pardon -- shedding r_i_g_h_t unreason. Over sensation fly the fleeting seasons. Thin wind whispering on broken mandolin. Bending the minutes -- the hours ever turning on that old gold story of mercy. Desperate breathing. Tongue nipple-teasing. Your fast river flowing -- your Northern fire fed. Come, Black Satin Dancer, come softly to bed.
Well I saw a bird today -- flying from a bush and the wind blew it away. And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly at play -- velvet veined I saw it burn. With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew right on by And, taking in the morning, I sang -- O Requiem. 19 ** Jethro Tull ***. Well, my lady told me, "Stay". I looked aside and walked away along the Strand. But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred close behind the taxi stand. Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window. Fading into the traffic; watched her go. And taking in the morning, heard myself singing -- O Requiem. Here I go again. It's the same old story. Well, I saw a bird today -- I looked aside and walked away along the Strand.
9.5. One White Duck / 0e10 = Nothing at All
There's haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way -- And there's note on the telephone -- some roses on a tray. And the motorway's stretching right out to us all, as I pull on my old wings -- One White Duck on your wall. Isn't it just too damn real? I'll catch a ride on a violin -- strung upon your bow. And I'll float on your melody -- sing your chorus soft and low. There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called. You can see from the fireplace, One White Duck on your wall. Isn't it just too damn real? So fly away Peter and fly away Paul -- from the finger-tip ledge of contentment. The long restless rustle of high heel boots calls, And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all. Something must be wrong with me and my brain if I'm so patently unrewarding. But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that way -- and my zero to your power of ten equals nothing at all. There's no double-lock defence; there's no chain on my door. I'm available for consultation. But remember your way in is also my way out, and love's four-letter word is no compensation. I'm the Black Ace dog-handler; I'm a waiter on skates -- so don't jump to your foreskin conclusion -- Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays -- To be cleared before I can dine on your sweet Sunday lunch confusion. 20 ** Jethro Tull ***.
9.6. Baker Street Musе
Windy bus-stop. Click. Snop-window. Heel. Shady gentlemen. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands, With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time -- You can call on me on another line. Indian restaurants that curry my brain. Newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. With cold print hands. Symphony word-player, I'll be your headline. If you catch me another time. Didn't make her -- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her -- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her -- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse. ?Ale..........brew -- boys, throw it ...... ?C........... Colours them green. ?From the ........ Pool goes the ........... Princess ? With green ........ ?Fertile e(n)th-mother, your b.... Mound is f(itry) (feet) ? Down in the Baker Street underground. Walking down the gutter thinking, "How the Hell am I today?" Well, I didn't really ask you but thanks all the same.
126.96.36.199. Pig-Me And The Whorе
"Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me", said the pig-me to the whore, desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain. Little man, his youth a fountain. Overdrafted and still counting. Vernacular, verbose; an attempt in getting close to where he came from. In the doorway of the stars, between Blandford Street and Mars; Proposition, deal. Flying button feel. Testicle testing. Wallet ever-bulging. Dressed to the left, divulging the wrinkles of his years. Wedding-bell induced fears Shedding bell-end tears in the pocket of her resistance. International assistance flowing generous and full to his never-ready tool. Pulls his eyes over her wool. And he shudders as he comes -- And my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road. 21 ** Jethro Tull ***.
188.8.131.52. Crash-Barrier Waltzer
And here slip I -- dragging one foot in the gutter -- In the midnight echo of the shop that sells cheap radios. And there sits she -- no bed, no bread not butter -- On a double yellow line where she can park anytime, Old Lady Grey; Crash-barrier Waltzer -- Some only son's mother, Baker St. Casualty. Oh Mr. Policeman -- blue shirt ballet master Feet in sticking plaster -- Move the old lady on, Strange pas-de-deux -- His Romeo to her Juliet. Her sleeping draught his poisoned regret, No drunken bums allowed to sleep here in the crowded emptiness. Oh officer, let me send her to a cheap hotel -- I'll pay the bill and make her well -- like hell you bloody will! No do-good over kill. We must teach them to be still more independent.
184.108.40.206. Mother England Reveriе
I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone. I have no wish for wishing-wells or wishing bones. I have no house in the country I have no motor-car. And if you think I'm joking, then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar. And it seems there's no-body left for tennis; and I'm a one-band-man. And I want no Top Twenty funeral or a hundred grand. There was a little boy stood on a burning log, rubbing his hands with glee. He said "Oh Mother England did you light my smile; or did you light this fire under me? One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery. And paint you a picture of the queen. And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree -- It's just the nonsense that it seems". So I drift down through the Baker Street valley, in my steep-sided un-reality. And when all's said and all's done -- I couldn't wish for a better one. It's a real-life ripe dead-certainty -- That I'm just a Baker Street Muse. Talking to the gutter-stinking, winking in the same old way. I tried to catch my eye but I looked the other way. Indian restaurants that curry my brain -- Newspaper warriors changing the names they advertise from the station stand. Circumcised with cold print hands. 22 ** Jethro Tull ***. Windy bus-stop. Click. Snop-window. Heel. Shady gentlemen. Fly-button. Feel. In the underpass, the blind man stands. With cold flute hands. Symphony match-seller, breath out of time -- You can call on me on another line. Didn't make her -- with my Baker Street Ruse. Couldn't shake her -- with my Baker Street Bruise. Like to take her -- but I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
Hello sun, Hello bird, Hello my lady, Hello breakfast. May I buy you again tomorrow? 23 ** Jethro Tull ***.
10. "TOO OLD TO ROCK'N'ROLL: TOO YOUNG TO DIE"
(p) 1976 1. Quizz Kid 2. Crazed Institution 3. Salamander 4. Taxi Grab 5. From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser 6. Bed-eyed and Loveless 7. Big Dipper 8. Too Old to Rock'n'Roll: Too Young to Die 9. Pied Piper 10. The Chequered Flag (Chrysalis CHR 1111)
10.1. Quizz Kid
Cut along the dotted line - slip in and seal the flap. Postal competition crazy, though you wear the dunce's cap. Win a fortnight in Ibiza - line up for the big hand-out. You'll never know unless you try - what winnig's all about - Quizz Kidd. Be a Whizz Kid. Six days later there's a rush telegram Drop everything and telephone this number if you can. It's a free trip down to London for a weekend of high life They'll wine you; dine you; undermine you - better not bring the wife - Be a Quizz Kid. Be a Whizz Kid. It's a try out for a quizz show that millions watch each week. Following the fate and fortunes of contestants as they speak Answerable to everyone; responsible to all: publicity dissected - brain cells spattered on the walls of encyclopaedic knowledge. May be barbaric but it's fun. As the clock ticks away a lifetime, hold your head up to the gun of a million cathode ray tubes aimed at your tiny skull. May you find sweet inspiration - may your memory not be dull. May you rise to dizzy success May your wit be quick and strong May you constantly amaze us May your answers not be wrong May your head be on your shoulders May your tongue be in your cheek And most of all we pray that you may Come back next week! Be a Quizz Kid. Be a Whizz Kid. 24 ** Jethro Tull ***.
10.2. Crazed Institutioп
Just a little touch of make-up;just a little touch of bull Just a little 3-chord trick embedded in your platform soul You can wear a gold Piaget on your Semaphore wrist You can dance the old adage with a new dapper twist And you can ring a crown of roses round your cranium Live and die upon your cross of platinum Join the crazed institution of the stars Be the man that you think (know) you really are. Crawl inside your major triad, curl up and laugh As your agent scores another front page photograph Is it them or is it you throwing dice inside the loo Awaiting someone else to pull the chain Well grab the old dog-handle, hold your breath and light a candle Clear your throat and pray for rain to irrigate the corridors that echo in your brain filled with empty nothingness, empty hunger pains. And you can ring a crown of roses round your cranium Live and die upon your cross of platinum Join the crazed institution of the stars Be the man that you think (know) you really are.
Salamander - Born in the sun-kissed flame. Who was it lit your candle - Branded you with your name? I see you walking by my window In your Kensington haze. Salamander, burn for me; and I'll burn for you. 25 ** Jethro Tull ***.
10.4. Taxi Grab
Shake a leg, it's the big rush Can't find a taxi can't find a bus Bodies jammed in the underground Evacuating London town Nowhere to put your feet as the big store shoppers and the pavements meet Red lights - pin stripes - short step shuffle into the night Tea time calls - the Bingo Halls open at seven in the old front stalls. How about a Taxi Grab. There's an empty cab by the taxi stand Driver's in the cafe washing his hands Big diesel idles - the keys inside - C'mon Sally let's take a ride Flag down - up-town - no sweat For rush hour travel, it's the best bet yet. Taxi Grab.
10.5. From a Dead Beat to an Old Greaser
From a dead beat to an old greaser, here's thinking of you You won't remember the long nights; coffee bars; black tights and white thighs in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them) When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows did F.B.I. And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture - sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker, Jack Kerouac, Rene Magritte to name a few of the heroes who were too wise for their own good - left the young brood to go on living without them. Old queers with young faces - who remember your name, though you're a dead beat with tired feet; two ends that don't meet. To a dead beat from an old greaser. Think you must have me all wrong I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend. If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.
10.6. Bad-Eyed and Loveless
Yes'n she's bad-eyed and loveless A young man's fancy and an old man's dream I'm self raising and I flower in her company Give me no sugar without her cream. 26 ** Jethro Tull ***. She's a warm fart at Christmas She's a breath of champagne on sparking night Yes'n she's bad-eyed and loveless Turns other women to envious green Yes and she's bad-eyed and loveless A young man's vision - in my old man's dream.
10.7. Big Dipper
The mist rolls off the beaches: the train rolls into the station Weekend happiness seekers - pent-up saturation Well, we don't mean anyone any harm We weren't on the Glasgow train. See you at the Pleasure Beach Roller-coasting heroes. Chorus: Big Dipper riding - we'll give the local lads a hiding If they keep us from the ladies Hanging out in the penny arcades. Shaking up the Tower Ballroom Throwing up in the bathroom Landlady's in the back room I'm the Big Dipper It's the weekend rage Rich widlowed landlady give me your spare front door key. If you're 39 or over, I'll make love to wou next Thursday- I may stay over for a week or two Drop a postcard to me mum. I'll meet you on the waltzer We'll go big-dipping daily.
10.8. Too Old to Rock'n'Roll: Too Young to Diе
The old Rocker wore his hair too long, wore his trouser cuffs too tight. Unfashionable to the end - drank his ale too light. Death's head belt buckle - yesterday's dreams - The transport caf' prophet of doom Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams, in his post-war-babe gloom. Chorus: Now he's too old to Rock'n'Roll but he's too young to die Yes, he's too old, etc. He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville. Counted his friends in burned out spark plugs And prays that he always will. But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys All his mates are doing time Married with three kids up by the ring road Sold their souls straight down the line And some of them own little sports cars and meet at the tenis club do's For drinks on a sunday - work on Monday They've thrown away their blue suede shoes. 27 ** Jethro Tull ***. Now they're too old to Rock'n'Roll but they're too young to die Yes, they're too old, etc. So the old Rocker gets out his bike to make a ton before he takes his leave Upon the Al by Scotch Corner just like it used to be. And as he flies - tears in his eyes - his wind-whipped word echo the final take As he hits the trunk road doing around 120 with no room left ot brake And he was too old to Rock'n'Roll And he was too young to die.
10.9. Pied Piper
Well, if you think Ray blew it, There was nothing to it. They patched him up as good as new. Now you can see hin every day - Riding down the queen's highway Handing out his small cigars to the kids from school And all the little girls With their bleached blonde curls Clump up on their platform soles And they say "Hey Ray - Let's ride away Downtown where we can roll some alley bowls." And Ray grins from ear to here, and whispers... So follow me. Trail along My leather jacket's buttoned up. And my four-stroke song Will pick you up when your last class ends; And you can tell all your friends The pied piper pulled you The mad biker fooled you I'll do what you want to If you ride with me on a Friday Anything goes. So follow me, hold on tight. My school girl fancy's flowing in free flight I've a tenner in my skin tight jeans You can touch it if your hands are clean. The Pied piper pulled you The mad biker fooled you I'll you ride with me on a Friday Anything goes. 28 ** Jethro Tull ***.
10.10. The Chequered Flag (Dead or Alive)
The disc brakes drag, the chequered flag sweeps across the oil-slick track The young man's home; dry as a bone. His helmet off, he waves: the crowd waves back. One lap victory roll. Gladiator soul The taker of the day in winning has to say Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive. The sunlight streaks through the curtain cracks Touches the old man where he sleeps The nurse brings up a cup of tea - two biscuits and the morning paper mystery. The hard road's and, the white God's send is nearer everyday, in dying the old man says Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand; dead or alive. The still-born child can't feel the rain as the chequered flag falls once again The deaf composer completes his final score. He'll never hear his sweet encore The chequered flag, the bull's red rag The lemming-hearted hordes running ever-faster to the shore singing. Isn't it grand to be playing to the stand, dead or alive. 29 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1977 1. Song from the Wood 2. Jack-In-The-Green 3. Cup of Wonder 4. Hunting Girl 5. Ring Out, Solstice Bells 6. Velvet Green 7. The Whistler 8. Pibroch (Cap in Hand) 9. Fire at Midnight (Chrysalis CHR 1132) 30 ** Jethro Tull ***.
12. "HEAVY HORSES"
(p) 1978 1. ... And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps 2. Acres Wild 3. No Lullaby 4. Moths 5. Journeyman 6. Rover 7. One Brown Mouse 8. Heavy Horses 9. Weathercock (Chrysalis CHR 1175)
12.1. ...And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps
Muscled, black with steel-green eye Swishing through the rye grass with thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie Tail balancing at half-mast. ...And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps === lying in the cherry tree. Savage bed foot-warmer of purest feline ancestry. Look out, little furry folk! === He's the all-night working cat Eats but one in every ten === leaves the others on the mat. ...And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps === waiting by the cellar door. Window-box town-crier; birth and death registrar With claws that rake a furrow red === Lacensed to mutilate. From warm milk on a lazy day to dawn patrol on hungry hate. ...No, The Mouse Police Never Sleeps dimbing on the roy. Windy roof-top weathercock Warm-blooded night on a cold tile.
12.2. Acres Wild
I'll make love to you in all good places under black mountains, in open spaces. By deep brown rivers ............. ............. ............. 31 ** Jethro Tull ***. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. ............. .............
12.3. No Lullabу
Keep your eyes open and pride up your cars - rehearse your loudest cry. There's folk out there who would do you harm so I'll sing you no lullaby. There's a lock on the window; there's a cham on the door; a big dog in the hall. But there's dragons and beasties out there in the night to snatch you if you fall. So come out fighting with your rattle in hand. Trust and parry. Light a match to catch the devil's eye. Bring a cross of fire to the fight. And let no sleep bring false relief from the tension of the fray. Come wake the dead with the scream of life. Do battle with ghosts at play. Gather your toys at the call-to-arms and swing your big bear down Upon our necks when we come to set you sleeping safe and sound. It's as well we tell no lie to chase the face that cries === And little birds can't fly so keep an open eye. It's as well we tell no lie so I'll sing you no lullaby. 32 ** Jethro Tull ***.
The leaded window opened to move the dancing candle flame And the first Moths of summer suicedal came And a new breeze chattered in its May-bud tenderness === Sending water-lillies sailing as she terned to get undressed. And the long night awakened and we soared on powdered wings === Circling our tomorrows in the wary month of Spring. Chasing shadows slipping in a magic lantern slide === Creatures of the candle on a night-light-ride. Dipping and weaving === flutter through the golden needle's eye in our haystack madness. Butterfly-stroking on a Spring-tide high. Life's too long (as the Lemming said) as the candle burned and the Moths were wed. And we'll all burn together as the wick grows higher before the candle's dead. The leaded window opened to move the dancing candle flame. And the first moths of summer suicidal came to join in worship of the light that never dies in a moment's reflection of two Moths spinning in her eyes.
Spin-tingling railway sleepers Sleepy houses lying four-square and firm Orange beams divide the darkness Rumbling fit to turn the waking worm. Sliding through Victorian tunnels where green moss oozes from the pores, Dull echoes from the wet embankments === Battlefield allotments, Fresh open sores. In late night commuter madness Double-locked black briefaise on the floor like a faithful dog with master sleeping in the draught beside the carriage door. To each Journeyman his own home-coming Cold supper nearing with each station stop Frosty flakes on empty platforms Fireside slippers waiting - Flip, Flop. 33 ** Jethro Tull ***. Journeyman night-tripping on the late fantastic Too late to stop for tea at Gerrards Cross and hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle as the wheels turn biting on the midnight frust. On the late commuter special Carriage lights that flicker, fade and die Howling into hollow blackness Dusky diesel shudders in full cry Down redundant morning papers Abandon crosswords with a cough. Stationmaster in his wisdom told the guard to turn the heating off.
I chase your every footstep and I follow every whim. When you call the tune I'm ready to strike up the battle himn. My lady of the meadows === My comber of the beach === You've thrown the stick for your dog's trick but it's floating out of reach. The long road is a rainbow and the pot of gold lies there. So slip the chain and I'm off again === You'll find me everywhere. I'm a Rover. As the robin craves the summer to hide his smock of red, I need the pillow of your hair in which to hide my head. I'm simple in my sadness; resourceful in remorse. Then I'm down straining at the lead === holding on a windward course. Strip me from the bundle of balloons at every fair: colourful and carefree === designed to make you stare. But I'm lost and I'm losing the thread that holds me down. And I'm up hot and rising in the lights of every town.
12.7. One Brown Mousе
Smile your little smile === take some tea with me awhile. Brush away that black doud from your shoulder. Twitch your whiskers. Feel that you're really real. Another tea-time === another day older. Puff warm breath on your tiny hands. You wish you were a man who every day can turn another page. Behind your glass you sit and look at my ever-open book === One Brown Mouse sitting in a cage. 34 ** Jethro Tull ***. Do you wonder if I really care for you === Am I just the company you keep === Which one of us exercises on the old treadmill === Who hides his head, pretending to sleep? Smile your little smile === take some tea with me awhile And every day we'll turn another page. Behind our glass we'll sit and look at our ever-open book === One Brown Mouse sitting in a cage.
12.8. Heavy Horses
Iron-clad feather-feet poundin the dust An October's day, towards evening. Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough Salt on a deep shest seasoning. Last of the line at an honest day's toil Turning the deep sod under. Flint at the fetlock, chasing the bone Flies at the nostrils plunder. The Suffolk, the Clydesdale, the Percheron vie with the Shire on his feathers floating Hauling soft timber into the dusk to bed on a warm straw coating. Heavy Horses, move the land under me Behind the plough gliding === slipping and sliding free. Now you're down to the few and there's no work to do The tractor's on its way. Let me find you a filly for your proud stallion seed To keep the old line going. And we'll stand you abreast at the back of the wood Behind the young trees growing To hide you from eyes fthat mock at your girth, and your eighteen hands at the shoulder And one day when the oil barons have all dripped dry and the nights are seen to draw colder They'll beg for your strength your gentle power your noble grace and your bearing And you'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls in the wake of the deep plough, sharing. Standing like tanks on the brow of the hill Up into the cold wind facing In stiff battle harness, chained to the world Against the low sun racing. Bring me a wheel of oaken wood A rein of polished leather A Heavy Horse and a tumbling sky Brewing heavy weather. 35 ** Jethro Tull ***. Bring a song for the evening Clean brass to flash the down across these acres glistening like dew on a carpet lawn. In these dark towns folk he sleeping as the Heavy Horses thunder by to wake the dying city with the living horseman's cry At once the old hands quicken === bring pick and wisp and curry comb === thrill to the sound of all the Heavy Horses coming home.
Good morning Weather cock; How did you fare last night Did the cold wind bite you, did you face up to the fright When the leaves spin from October and whip around your tail Did you shake from the blast, did you shiver through the gale? Give us direction; the best of goodwill === Put us in touch with fair winds. Sing to us softly, hum evening's song === Tell us what the blacksmith has done for you. Do you simply reflect changes in the patterns of the sky, Or is it true to say the weather heeds the twinkle in your eye? Do you fight the rush of winter; do you hold snowflakes at bay, Do you lift the dawn sun from the fields and help him on his way? Good morning Weathercock; make this day bright. Put us in touch with your fair winds. Sing to us softly, hum evening's song Point the way to better days we can share with you. 36 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1978 1. No Lullaby (*78) 2. Sweet Dream (*71s) 3. Skating Away on the Thin Ice of the New Day (*74) 4. Jack in the Green (*77) 5. One Brown Mouse (*78) 6. A New Day Yesterday (*69) 7. Flute Solo Improvisation/God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen/Bouree 8. Song from the Wood (*77) 9. Thick As a Brick (*72) 10. Hunting Girl (*77) 11. Too Old To Rock and Roll, Too Young To Die (*76) 12. Conundrum (Martin Barre, B. Barlow) 13. Minstrel in the Gallery (*75) 14. Cross Eyed Mary (*71) 15. Quatrain (Martin Barre) 16. Aqualung (*71) 17. Locomotive Breath (*71) 18. The Dambusters March (Eric Coates) (Chrysalis CH2 1201) (*69) - see "STAND UP" (*71) - see "AQUALUNG" (*71s) - see "LIVING IN THE PAST" (*72) - see "THICK AS A BRICK" (*74) - see "WAR CHILD" (*75) - see "MINSTREL IN THE GALLERY" (*76) - see "TOO OLD TO ROCK'N'ROLL: TOO YOUNG TO DIE" (*77) - see "SONGS FROM THE WOOD" (*78) - see "HEAVY HORSES" 37 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1979 1. North Sea Oil 2. Orion 3. Home 4. Dark Ages 5. Warm Sporran 6. Something's on the Move 7. Old Ghrosts 8. Dun Ringill 9. Flying Dutchman 10. Elegy (Chrysalis CHR 1238) 38 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1980 1. Crossfire 2. Flingdale Flyer 3. Workin' John Workin' Joe 4. Black Sunday 5. Protect & Survive 6. Butteries Not Encluded 7. Uniform 8. 4 w.d.(Low Ratio) 9. The Pine Marten's Jig 10. And Further On (Chrysalis CHR 1301) 39 ** Jethro Tull ***.
16. "THE BROADSWORD AND THE BEAST"
(p) 1982 1. Beastie 2. Clasp 3. Fallen on Hard Times 4. Flying Colours 5. Slow Marching Band 6. BroadSword 7. Pussy Willow 8. Watching Me Watching You 9. Seal Driver 10. Cheerio (Chrysalis CHR 1380)
From early days of infancy through trembling years of youth long murky middle-age and final hours longin the tooth he is the hundred names of terror - creature you love the least Picture his name before you and exorcise the beast. He roved up and down through History - spectre with tules to tell In the darkness when the campfire's dead - to each his private Hell If you look behind your shoulder as you feel his eyes to feast you can witness now the everchanging nature of the Beast. Beastie If you wear a warmer sporran, you can keep the foe at bay You can pop those pills and visit some psychiatrist who'll say - There is nothing I can do for you, everywhere's a danger zone I'd love to help get rid of it but I've got one of my own. There's a beast upon my shoulder and a fiend upon my back Feel his burning breath a-heaving, smoke oozing from his stack And he moves beneath the covers or he lies below the bed He's the Beast upon you shoulder. He's price upon your head. He's the lonely fear of dying, and for some, of living too He's your private nightmare pricking. He'd just love to turn the screw So stand as one defiant - Yes, and Let your voices swell. Stare that Beastie in the face and really give him Hell. 40 ** Jethro Tull ***.
We travellers on the endless wastes in single orbits gliding cold-eyed march towards the down behind hard-weather hoods a-hiding Meeting as the tall ships do, passing in the channel Afraid to chance a gentle touch -- afraid to make the Clasp. In high-rise city canyons dwells the discontent of ages On ring roads, nose to bumper crawl commuters in their cages Cryptic signals flash across from pilots in the fast lane Double-locked and belted in -- too late to make the Clasp. Lets break the journey now on some lonely road Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload Tolk in confidential terms, share a dark unspoken fear Refill the cup and drink it up. Say goodnight and wish good luck. Synthetic chiefs with frozen smiles holding unsteady courses Grip the reins of History, high on their battle horses And meeting as good statesmen do before the T.V. Eyes of millions hand to hand exchange the lie -- pretend to make the Clasp.
16.3. Fallen on Hard Times
Fallen on Hard Times -- but it feels good to know that milk and honey's just around the bend Running on bad lines -- we'd better run as we go Tear up, tear up the overdraft again. Oh, dear Prime Minister -- it's all such a mess Go right ahead and pull the rotten tooth Oh, Mr President -- you've seen put to the test Come clean, for once, and hit us with the truth. Looking for sunshine -- oh but it's black and it's cold Yet you say that milk and honey's just round the bend. Giving us a hard time, my friends Handing us the same line again. Fallen on Hard Times -- and there's nowhere to hide Now they've re-possessed the Rolls Royce and the mink Turning on the peace sign -- and it's back to the wood Soon there will be raised an holy stink. Somebody wake me. I've seen sleeping too long Oh, I don't have to take this lying down You can keep your promises. Shove'em where they belong Don't ask me to the party -- won't be around. 41 ** Jethro Tull ***.
16.4. Flying Colours
Shout if you will, but that just won't do I, for one, would rather follow softer options I'll take the easy line; another sip of wine And if I ignore the face you wore, it's just a way of mine to keep from flying colours. Don't lay your bait while the whole world waits around to see me shoot you down - it's all so second-rate. When we can last for days on a loving night; or for hours at least on a warm whisper given. You always pick the best time to rise to the fight. To break the hard bargain that we've driven Once again were flying colours. I thought we had it out the night before and settled old scores, but not the hard way. Was it a glass too much? Or a smile too few? Did our friends all catch the needle match -- did we want them to ? In a fancy restaurant we were all aglow Keeping cool by mutual permission How did the conversation get to where we came to blows We were set up in a red condition And again we're flying colours. Shout -- but you see it still won't do With my colours on I can be just as bad as you Have I had a glass too Much? Did I give a smile too few? Did our friends all catch the needle match -- did we want them to? We act our parts so well, like we wrote the play All so predictable and we know it. We'll settle old scores now, and settle the hard way You may not even live to outgrow it! Once again we're flying colours.
16.5. Slow Marching Band
Would you join a Slow Marching Band? And take pleasure in your leaving as the ferry sails and tears are dried and cows come home at evening. Could you get behind a Slow Marching Band? -- join together in the passing of all we shared through yesterdays in sorrows neverlasting. Take a hand and take a bow You played for me; thats all for now Oh, and never mind the words just ham along and keep on going. Walk on slowly -- don't look behind you Don't say goodbye, love. I won't remind you. Dream of me as the nights draw cold still marking time through Winter You paid the piper and called the tune and you marched the band away. 42 ** Jethro Tull ***.
I see a dark sail on the horizon set under a dark cloud that hides the sun Bring me my Broadsword and clear understanding Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman Get up to the roundhouse on the cliff-top standing Take women and children and bed them down Bring me my Broadsword and clear understanding Bring me my cross of gold as a talisman Bless with a hard heart those who surround me Bless the women and children who firm our hands Put our backs to the North wind. Hold fast by the river Sweet memories to drive us on for the Motherland.
16.7. Pussy Willow
In the half-tone light of a young morning she sighs and shifts on the pillow And across her face dancing, the first shadows fly to kiss the Pussy Willow. In her fairy-tale world she's a lost soul singing in a sad voice nobody hears She waits in her castle of make-believing for her white knight to appear. Pussy Willow -- down fur-lined avenue brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes Runs for the train -- see, eight o'clock's coming cutting dreams down to size again. She longs for the East and a pale dress flowing on apartment in old Mayfair On to fish the Spey, spinning the first run of Spring or to die for a cause somewhere. Pussy Willow -- down fur-lined avenue brushing the sleep from her young woman eyes Runs from the train. Near her typewriter humming cutting dreams down to size again.
16.8. Wathing Me Watching Yои
I sit by the cutting on the Beaconsfield line He's watching me watching the trains go by And they move so fast. -- Boy, they really fly He's still watching me watching you watching the trains go by. And the way he stares -- feel like locking my door and pulling my phone from the wall His eyes, like lights from a laser burn making my hair stand -- making the goose-bumps crawl. He's watching me watching you watching him watching me I'm watching you watching him watching me watching Stares. 43 ** Jethro Tull ***. At the cocktail party with Bucks Fizz in my hand I feel him watching me watching the girls go by And they move so smooth without even trying He's still watching we watching the trains go by And the crowd thins and he moves up close but he doesn't speak I have to look the other way But curiosity gets the better part of me and I peek Got two drinks in his hand -- see his lips move what the Hell's he trying to say He's watching me watching you watching him watching me I'm watching you watching him watching me watching Stares.
16.9. Seal Driver
Take you away for my magic ship I have two hundred deisel horses thundering loud Sea birds call your name and the mountains on fire As the summer lightning cuts the sky like a hot wire And you ride on the swell and your heart is alive think I'll make you my seal driver. I'm no great looker, I'm no fast shakes I'll give you a steady push on a six knot simmering high tide I can hold us down -- keep our head to the wind Or let us roll on the broadside, cold spray flying in And we'll ride on the swell and our hearts are alive let me make you my seal driver. I could captain you if you'd crew for me follow white flecked spindrift -- float on a moon-kissed sea Could you fancy me as a pirate bold Or a longship Viking warrior with the old gods on his side Well, I'm an inshore man and I'm nobody's hero But I'll make you tight for a windy night and a dark ride Let me take you in hand and bring you alive Going to make you my seal driver
Along the coast road, by the headland the early lights of winter glow I'll pour a cup to you my darling Raise it up -- say Cheerio. 44 ** Jethro Tull ***.
(p) 1984 1. Lap of Luxury 2. Under Wraps #1 3. European Legasy 4. Later, That Same Evening 5. Saboteur 6. Radio Free Moscow 7. Nobody's Car 8. Heat 9. Under Wraps #2 10. Paparazzi 11. Apogee (Chrysalis) 45 ** Jethro Tull ***.
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