20 YEARS OF JETHRO TULL
Song For Jeffrey
Gonna lose my way tomorrow,
gonna give away my car.
I'd take you along with me,
but you would not go so far.
Don't see what I do not want to see,
you don't hear what I don't say.
Won't be what I don't want to be,
I continue in my way.Don't see, see, see where I'm goin',
Don't see, see, see where I'm goin',
Don't see, see, see where I'm goin' to,
I don't want to.Everyday I see the mornin' come on in the same old way.
I tell myself tomorrow brings me things I would not dream today.
Love Story
Going back in the morning time
to see if my love has changed her mind, yeah.
I know what I will find
that she is wasting time,
she could be picking roses.Going back in the morning time
to see if my love has seen the light, yeah.
Oh, I told her last night
she should improve her sight,
she could be painting the roof.Going back in the morning time
to see if my love has come around, yeah.
She offered me no sound,
her head is in the ground,
She could be calling for winter.
Fat Man
Don't want to be a fat man,
people would think that I was
just good fun.
Would rather be a thin man,
I am so glad to go on being one.
Too much to carry around with you,
no chance of finding a woman who
will love you in the morning and all the night time too.Don't want to be a fat man,
have not the patience to ignore all that.
Hate to admit to myself half of my problems
came from being fat.
Won't waste my time feeling sorry for him,
I seen the other side to being thin.
Roll us both down a mountain
and I'm sure the fat man would win.
Bourée
[Instrumental]
Stormy Monday Blues
I said they call it Stormy Monday
But I said Tuesday's just as bad.
I said they call it Stormy Monday
Tuesday is just as bad.
Wednesday's full of sorrow,
I said that Thursday's oh-so, it's oh-so-sad. It's oh-so-sad.I said lord, lord, why don't you have mercy,
You gotta have mercy on me.
So I'm trying to find my woman,
Won't you bring her home to me?
I said they call it stormy Monday.
A New Day Yesterday
My first and last time with you
and we had some fun.
went walking through the trees, yeah!
And then I kissed you once.
Oh I want to see you soon
but I wonder how.
It was a new day yesterday
but it's an old day now.Spent a long time looking
for a game to play.
My luck should be so bad now
to turn out this way.
Oh I had to leave today
just when I thought I'd found you.
It was a new day yesterday
But it's an old day now.
Cold Wind To Valhalla
And ride with us young bonny lass
with the angels of the night.
Crack wind clatter flesh 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.
Breakfast 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.
Minstrel In The Gallery
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-glow'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, TV documentary makers
(overfed 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 friends he'd made.
Velvet Green
Walking on velvet green. Scots pine growing.
Isn't it rare to be taking the air, singing.
Walking on velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. Distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.Won't you have my company, yes, take it in your hands.
Go down on velvet green, with a country man.
Who's a young girls fancy and an old maid's dream.
Tell your mother that you walked all night on velvet green.
One dusky half-hour's ride up to the north.
There lies your reputation and all that you're worth.
Where the scent of wild roses turns the milk to cream.
Tell your mother that you walked all night on velvet green.
And the long grass blows in the evening cool.
And August's rare delight may be April's fool.
But think not of that, my love,
I'm tight against the seam.
And I'm growing up to meet you down on velvet green.Now I may tell you that it's love and not just lust.
And if we live the lie, let's lie in trust.
On golden daffodils, to catch the silver stream
that washes out the wild oat seed on velvet green.
We'll dream as lovers under the stars
of civilizations raging afar.
And the ragged dawn breaks on your battle scars.
As you walk home cold and alone upon velvet green.Walking on velvet green. Scots pine growing.
Isn't it rare to be taking the air, singing.
Walking on velvet green.
Walking on velvet green. Distant cows lowing.
Never a care: with your legs in the air, loving.
Walking on velvet green.
Grace
Hello sun. Hello bird. Hello my lady.
Hello breakfast.
May I buy you again tomorrow?
Jack Frost And The Hooded Crow
Through long December nights we talk in words of rain or snow,
while you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go.
Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame
to warm their bones at Christmas time?
Say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.Now as the last broad oak leaf falls, we beg: consider this:
there's some who have no coin to save for turkey, wine or gifts.
No children's laughter round the fire, no family left to know.
So lend a warm and a helping hand:
say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.As holly pricks and ivy clings, your fate is none too clear.
The Lord may find you wanting, let your good fortune disappear.
All homely comforts blown away and all that's left to show
is to share your joy at Christmas time
with Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.Through long December nights we talk in words of rain or snow,
while you, through chattering teeth, reply and curse us as you go.
Why not spare a thought this day for those who have no flame
to warm their bones at Christmas time?
Say Jack Frost and the Hooded Crow.
I'm Your Gun
Blew my smoke on a sunny day,
when the first black powder came my way.
Hot lead ball from a muzzle cold
to win fair lady and take your gold.
I know it hardly seems the time (I am your gun)
to talk of blue steel so sublime. (I am your gun)
I can understand your point of view. (I am your gun)
To tell the truth I'd scare me too.Match, wheel and flintlock, they all caught your eye.
Pearl-handled ladies' models, scaled down to size.
I am the peacemaker, so the theory goes.
But I don't choose the company I keep and it shows.I am your gun.
Love me, I'm your gun.Maxim and Browning, they helped me along.
Stoner, Kalashnikov thrilled to my song.
Now one of me exists, for each one of you,
So how can you blame me for the things that I do?Now I take second place to the motor car (I am your gun)
in the score of killing kept thus far. (I am your gun)
And just remember, if you don't mind (I am your gun)
it's not the gun that kills but the man behind.
I am your gun.
I am your gun.
I am your gun.
I am your gun.
Down At The End Of Your Road
I am your neighbor. I seem most respectable,
But underneath I'm an iniquitous toad.
So many dreadful mishaps have befallen you
down at the end of your road.
And I live down the end of your road.I'm working on ways to remove you from paradise,
from your striped lawn and your new swimming pool.
I place broken bottles in your geraniums
sabotage your gardening tools.And I live down the end of your road.
By day I am a real estate gentleman.
I deal in fine properties cheap at the price.
After dark, I plan my most devious practices
which you might think are not very nice.Designing a system to reverse your plumbing
welling up, as you sit on your private throne.
Will come up all kinds of vile and despicable nasties
you would rather not have in your home.
And I live down the end of your road.Dispensed loathsome creatures in your drawing room,
Sent doggy poo-poos in your morning mail.
Rat's heads and lark's wings should set your tums turning
and your houses will soon be for sale.
And I live down the end of your road.
Yes, I live down the end of your road.
Well, I live down the end of your road.
I live down the end of your road.
I live down the end of your road.
I live down the end of your road.
Coronach
Grey the mist cold the dawn;
cruel the sea and stern the shore.
Brave the man who sets his course
for Albion.Sweet the rose sharp the thorn;
meek the soil and proud the corn.
Blessed the lamb that would be born
within this green and pleasant land.Hi-O-Ran-I-Ro
Hi-O-Ran-I-RoBrown furrow shine
beneath the rain washed blue.
Bright crystal streams
from eagle mountains born.
Fortune has smiled on those who wake anew,
within this fortress nature built
to stay the hand of war.With the wind from the east
came the first of those to tread
upon this stone, this throne of kings;
this realm, this new Jerusalem.Hi-O-Ran-I-Ro
Hi-O-Ran-I-Ro
Hi-O-Ran-I-Ro
Hi-O-Ran-I-Ro
Summerday Sands
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
and we lay together on the summerday sands.
I gave her my raincoat and told her, "Lady, be good!"
And we made truth together, where no one else would.
I smiled through her fingers and ran the dust through her hands,
the hour-glass of reason on the summerday sands.We sat as the sea caught fire.
Waited as the flames grew higher in her eyes,
in her eyes.
We watched the eagle born
wings clipped, tail feathers shorn, but we saw him rise,
we saw him rise over summerday sands.Came the ten o'clock curfew.
She said, "I must start my car.
I'm staying with someone I met last night in a bar."
I called from my wave top:"At least tell me your name!"
She smiled from her wheelspin and said, "It's all the same."
I thought for a minute, jumped back on dry land
left one set of footprints on the summerday sands.
I once met a girl with the life in her hands
and we lied together on the summerday sands.
Too Many Too
Too many drivers in too many cars.
Too many lost souls drinking in too many bars.
Too many heroes stepping on too many toes.
Too many yes-men nodding when they really mean no.
Too many lives each cat can lose,
we've got too many too.
Too many too.Too much sunshine. Too many drops of rain.
Too many equal and average children who will all grow up the same.
Too many fireside politicians holding too many views.
Too many questions but there are answers too few.
Too many lives each cat can lose,
we've got too many too.If I were a liar yes, and you were a cheat,
there would be too many places where we all could meet.
Too many temples where we could worship the beast.
Where he who thinks he had the most in fact has the least.
Too many lives each cat can lose,
I've got too many too.
I've got too many too.
I've got too many too.
I've got too many too.
March The Mad Scientist
What would you like for Christmas:
a new polarity?
You're binary, and desperate to deal in high figures
that lick us with their hotter flame
lick each and everyone the same.
And March, the mad scientist,
brings a new change
in ever-dancing colours.He rings it here and he rings it,
but no one stops to see
the change of fate and the fate of change
that slips into his pocket
so he locks it all away from view
and shares not what he thought you knew.
And April is summer-bound,
And February's blue.
And no one stops to see the colours.
Pan Dance
[Instrumental]
Strip Cartoon
Fish and chips, sandpaper lips and a rainy pavement.
Soho lights, another night thinking of you.
Black cat, sat on a wall, winks at me darkly.
Suggesting ways and means that I might win a smile,
as you leave the place where you work until 12.30
and the policemen nods as you pass along his beat.
Sweaty feet, troubled brow we're all in the same game, lady.
Life's no bowl of cherries it's a black and white strip cartoon.I've been warned that you and your friends are crazy
as from your hearts you bare your parts to the gentlemen,
who, while they drool, trying to keep cool,
spill their Scotch and water.
But I'm not that way, I must say I'd much prefer to see
you in your texturised rubber rainwear around 12.30.
Come and play shades of grey in my black and white strip cartoon.Strip cartoon is all I'm after.
Strip cartoon is all I crave,
so come to my place around 12:30
'cause I'm a leading politician
at a dangerous age.Strip cartoon is all I'm after.
Strip cartoon is all I crave,
so come to my place around 12:30
'cause I'm a leading politician
at a dangerous age.Strip cartoon, strip cartoon is all I'm after.
Strip cartoon is all I crave,
so come to my place around 12.30
'cause I'm a leading politician
at a dangerous age.
King Henry's Madrigal
[Instrumental]
A Stitch In Time
I work in dark factories, a cog in the big wheel,
driving grey satanic mills and weaving sad stories.And faceless masters oh, they pay me plenty
crumbs from their luncheon packs, harsh wine from bottles half empty.A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
So I flew to the south sun with birds of a feather
to drink in the warm nights and tell of fine weather.A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.Listen all you young folk your lives on a timetable,
clocking on twenty-one fly while you're able.
A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.A stitch in time saves nine.
Said Cock Robin from the wall.
It's an early bird catches the worm.
Show a little pride before you fall.
17
I remember when
we had a lot of things to do,
impressed by all the words we read
and the heroes that we knew.
Climb on your your dream,
a dream of our own making
to find a place that we could later lose
to whatever time would bring.We were seventeen
and the cakeman was affecting you,
moving you to greater things
(in a lesser way) you had to prove.
The clock struck summertime.
You were going round in circles now.
Wishing you were seventeen.
At twenty-one, it was a long time gone.And now here you are.
You're locked in your own excuse.
The circle's getting smaller every day.
You're busy planning your next fifty years.
So stay the way you are
and keep your head down to the same old ground.
Just paint your picture boy until you find
a closed circle's better than an open line.Yes stay the way you are.
I got a circle that's the same as yours.
It may be bigger, but I've more to lose.
Who is the luckier man me or you?
One For John Gee
[Instrumental]
Aeroplane
Flying made of sticks and paper:
aeroplane.
Dying is the wind but climbing,
my aeroplane.
Blowing, and going somewhere high
in the evening tumbling down,
but it's surely been up there.Crying want to live my life as
my aeroplane
Sighing in the sun's eye, but softly:
my aeroplane.Lonely, but only till it comes down,
well there's people running round.
But it's surely been up there.Flying my aeroplane.
my aeroplane
my aeroplane
my aeroplane
Sunshine Day
Woke up this morning to look at things in their funny way.
Why can't they be like they used to be only yesterday.
Ooh, bring back my sunshine day.I look at things that once were mine with such despair.
Why do the things I say only fall on empty air?
Ooh, bring back my sunshine day.
My mind cries: Bring back my sunshine day.I say the things I used to say, but they don't seem right.
Why does this world seem like the darkest endless night?
Ooh, bring back my sunshine day.
Bring back my sunshine day.
Lick Your Fingers Clean
I'll see you at the weighing in
when your life's sum-total's made.
And you set your wealth in godly deeds
against the sins you've laid.
So place your final burden
on your hard-pressed next of kin:
Send the chamber pot back down the line
to be filled up again.
Take your mind off your election
and try to get it straight.
And don't pretend perfection
you'll be crucified too late.
And he'll say you really should make the deal
as he offers round the hat.
Well, you'd better lick your fingers clean, I thank you all for that.
And as you join the good ship earth
and you mingle with the dust
be sure to leave your underpants
with someone you can trust.
And the hard-headed social worker who bathes his hands in blood
will welcome you with arms held high
and cover you with mud.
And he'll say you really should make the deal
as he offers round the hat.
Well, you'd better lick your fingers clean, I thank you all for that.
The Chateau D'Isaster Tapes
a) Scenario
In long years of ancient time, stood alone a friend of mine.
Reflected by the ever-burning sigh of a god who happened by.
And in the dawn, there came the song of some sweet lady singing in his ear.
Your god has gone, and from now on, you'll have to learn to hate
the things you fear.We want to know, are we inside the womb
of passion plays, and by righteousness consumed?
Or just in lush contentment of our souls?And so began the age of man.
They left his body in the sand.
Their glasses raised to a god on high
who smiled upon them from the sky.
So take the stage. Spin down the ages. Loose the passion.
Spill the rage upon your son who holds the gun up to your head
the play's begun.b) Audition
Then God, the director, smells a rat.
Pulls another rabbit from His hat.
Sniffs the air and He says, ``Well, that's that - I'm going.''
The actors milling helplessly - the script is blowing out to sea.
But what the hell, we didn't even pass an audition.
The lines you'll have to improvise. The words are written in
the eyes of politicians who despise their fathers.
And so the play necessitates that all you boys participate
in fierce competition to eliminate each other.And groupies, on their way to war,
get to write the next film score.
But the rock and roll star knows his glory is really nothing.
Men of religion, on the make,
pledge an oath they undertake to
make you white for God's own sake, and none other.While ladies get their bedding done
to win themselves a bouncing son
but bad girls do it for the fun of just being.
And me, I'm here to sing along,
and I'm not concerned with the righting wrongs,
just asking questions that belong without an answer.
The God is laughing up his sleeve
as He pours himself another cup of tea,
and He waves goodbye to you and me,
at least for now.c) No Rehearsal
Did you learn your lines today? Well, there is no rehearsal.
The tickets have all been sold for tomorrow's matinee.
There's a telegram from the writer,
but there is no rehearsal.
The electrician has been told to make the spotlights brighter.
There's one seat in the circle - five hundred million in the stalls.
Simply everyone will be there, but the safety curtain falls when
the bomb that's in the dressing room
blows the windows from their frames.
And the prompter in his corner is sorry that he came.Did you learn your lines today? Well there is no rehearsal.
The interval will last until the ice-cream lady melts away.
The twelve piece orchestra are here, but there is no rehearsal.
The first violinist's hands are chilled - he's gone deaf in both ears.
Well, the scenery is colourful, but the paint is so damn thin.
You see the wall behind is crumbling,
and the stage door is bricked-in.
But the audience keep arriving
`till they're standing in the wings.
And we take the final curtain call, and the ceiling crashes in.
Beltane
Have you ever stood in the April wood
and called the new year in?
While the phantoms of three thousand years fly
as the dead leaves spin?
There's a snap in the grass behind your feet
and a tap upon your shoulder.
And the thin wind crawls along your neck
it's just the old gods getting older.
And the kestral drops like a fall of shot and
the red cloud hanging high
come - a Beltane.Have you ever loved a lover of the old elastic truth?
And doted on the daughter in the ministry of youth?
Thrust your head between the breasts of the fertile innocent.
And taken up the cause of love, for the sake of argument.
Or while the kisses drop like a fall of shot
from soft lips in the rain
come - a Beltane.Happy old new year to you and yours.
The sun's up for one more day, to be sure.
Play it out gladly, for your card's marked again.Have you walked around your parks and towns so knife-edged orderly?
While the fires are burned on the hills upturned
in far-off wild country.
And felt the chill on your window sill
as the green man comes around.
With his walking cane of sweet hazel - brings it crashing down.
Sends your knuckles white as the thin stick bites.
Well, it's just your groaning pains.
Come - a Beltane.
Crossword
Walking on air, shoulder and head above you.
Down in the street, black canyons walking through.
Hooded sad eyes, fixed on your shuffle shoes.
Life is a clue in your crossword.Typewriter turk. Telephone terror takes time to wind down.
Push-button finger shakes.
City of dreams. Back to your quiet nightmare.
Your life is a clue in the crossword.Working to rule in your own time.
Drag yourself home to your star sign page.
Staying awake on cold yesterday's steak and warm beer.Ladder of string - climbing to sweet success.
Homework aside. Your brain on the train to test.
Pick up the news (you left on the seat beside you).
Your life is a clue in the crossword.
Saturation
They left me, leaving my house on fire, me running round
got out through the window.
While clinging to the skirts of fate
was not my idea of fun
I'll jump to it gladly.
The town was filled with smoke and hate.
Came to my senses just too late
to realize that all I ever owned
was borrowed. I thanked them for having shown
me that nothing ever really belongs to anyone.They burned my books and they broke my car,
and gave the dog to a man who used him for breeding.
They felled my trees and they tramped flowers and threw
the kitten into my new pool.
The same things done to other men had made them run away from the city.
This being the case, I joined them there and breathing air spent
the night with these new friends.
Jack-A-Lynn
Cold aeroplanes, slow boats, warm trains
remind me of Jack-A-Lynn.
Lush hotels and pretty girls
won't cheer the misty mood I'm in.
Silly, sad - I've never had to write this before
oh, Jack-A-Lynn.Funny how long nights allow
thoughts of Jack-A-Lynn.
When phantoms tread around my bed
to offer restless dreams they bring.
And it's just the time and place to find
a sad song to play
for Jack-A-Lynn.Magpies that shriek, old boots that leak
call me to Jack-A-Lynn.
Coal-black cats in policeman's hats
nosing where the mice have been.
And the long miaow's beginning now
and I'm far, far from home
and Jack-A-Lynn.
Motoreyes
Out on the fast and free way,
humming along through a build-up ad-man's dream.
Steaking past in a cloud of spray
goes the high-performance motor queen.
And she looks round at me
reflecting neon in her motoreyes.
And now the chase is on.
I know who'll be the loser - me.See the end curve coming, then we're
back on the street through the late theater crowds.
And the stop lights go and we're cruising side by side
still humming loud.
And she looks round again
her motoreyes going to tell me when.
Put her right foot to the floor.
Shows me she's no slow woman.She takes her cafe noir, smokes small cigars
showing just a touch of thigh (sigh!).
And sips her whisky straight, and she stays up late
to kiss the morning bye-bye.Now we're out of town, going to shake her down
if I can stay along.
Got my blue light on, put her in the net
with my siren song.
Pulls over to the side
her motoreyes are staring wide.
She flashes her I.D.
and makes a bigger fool of me.
Blues Instrumental (Untitled)
[Instrumental]
Rhythm In Gold
I have to call you up. Think I've seen a vision of rhythm in gold.
No cat could ever move that way. No puss would dare to be so bold.
Must tell the boys to follow you.
Catch you where you go to ground.
A lady of means, I can see. Rhythm in gold is getting to me.
What's your name, and where can I find you?Are you just a rich man's friend,
or was it always in the family?
You seem to throw the challenge down,
by the way you didn't even look at me.
Put the boys on you. Immobilize your nine-eleven.There's nothing I could do for you that would really matter much anyway.
You belong to everyone. Rhythm in gold's the number that you play.
Put the boys on you. Sabotage your nine-eleven.
Part Of The Machine
Everybody's jumping on the circus train.
Some jump high, some jump off again.
And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled.
All truths to light, all crosses nailed.
Aiming high where the eagle circles
where he keeps his tail feathers clean.
And wonders ``Am I still a free bird?
Or just a part of the machine.''They hitch their coverd wagons and they roll out west.
Politics in the pockets of their Sunday best.
Shaking hands, kissing babies, for all that they're worth.
Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth.Still, that old bald eagle circles
it's not the first time that he's seen
his reflection in the eyes of innocence.
He's become just another
part of the machine.I wish I had an eagle like you
to look up to.
He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky
up above the whole machine.Smart guys aren't running - they're home and dry.
Up in the mountains where the eagle flies.
They wouldn't take that job
offered on a plate.
They got to fly with the eagle, and he won't wait.
Looking down on the smoke and the factories
till the truth creeps up unseen.
They see themselves in the faces of their children
and realize they too are
part of the machine.I wish I had an eagle like you
to wake up to.
He could be my wings to fly
in a big bird sky, hey
let's be part of the machine.
Part of the machine.
Mayhem, Maybe
When we're working nights, the village round
the old church becomes scary town.
All curtained windows and bolted doors
but never a eye to see
as us fairy folks sweep from the hill
Never caught us and never will.
Pulling roses and daffodils
mayhem in the high degree.The blacksmith chased us all to ground.
They searched all night - we were never found.
The tinker boys and the sheriff's men
shaking the tallest tree.
And we sat and watched the women hide.
Laughed so much we split our sides.
Scattered horses that they would ride
mayhem in the high degree.We crossed through fields of midnight green
often heard but seldom seen.
Tore along hedges,stripping leaves
no-one could quite agree
whether we came from north or south.
We stole the screams from out their mouths
and go where no man would allow
mayhem in the high degree.Like scaly carp and feathered swan
to nature's world we do belong.
We ride the thin winds of the night
and set dark spirits free.
We terrify the mare and foal.
The fox stood still and far too bold.
So we strung him up, brush neatly folded
mayhem, maybe.
Overhang
Good morning, gentlemen. Why the uneasy frowns?
Too much everything and I can't recall. Did I let you down?
Nobody will answer me. Makes me feel that I want to die.
My mind is inclined to lie.
Oh, no - think I did it last night again.
Oh, no - been out on the overhang again.My hotel room was a battleground.
How did I find my way?
My wallet's gone and my jacket's torn.
My memory's a hazy grey.
Do I seem to remember now, two creatures about eight feet tall?
No safety net to break my fall.
Oh, no - must have done it last night again.
Oh, no - crawled out on the overhang again.
Been out on the overhang.Watching demons and spirits glide.
Heading out to the nearest star.
Better lead me back to the bar.
Oh, no - might do it tonight again.
Oh, no - crawled out on the overhang again.
Been out on the overhang.
Crawling out on the overhang.
Out of the overhang.
Kelpie
There was a warm wind with the high tide
on the south of the hill.
When a young girl went a-walking
and I followed with a will.
``Good day to you, my fine young lady
with your lips so sweetly full.
May I help you comb your long hair
sweep it from that brow so cool?''Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.Well I'm a man when I'm feeling
the urge to step ashore.
So I may charm you - not alarm you.
Tell you all fine things, and more.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.Say goodbye to all your dear kin
for they hate to see you go
in your young prime, to this place of mine
in the still loch far below.
Up, ride with the kelpie.
I'll steal your soul to the deep.
If you don't ride with me while the devil's free
I'll ride with somebody else.
Living In These Hard Times
The bomb's in the china. The fat's in the fire.
There's no turkey left on the table.
The commuter's return on the six o'clock flyer
brings no bale of hay for the stable.
Well, the light, it is failing along the green belt
as we follow the hard road signs.
Semi-detached in our suburban-ness
we're living in these hard times.Well the fly's in the milk and the cat's in the stew.
Another bun in the oven - oh, what to do?
We'll laugh and we'll sing and try to bring
a pound from your pocket.
Good day to you.
Oh, these hard times.The politicians sat on the wall
and traded with the union game.
Someone slapped a writ on our deficit
not a penny left to our name.
Oh, the times are hard and the credits lean,
and they toss and they turn in sleep.
And the line they take is the line they make
but it's not the line they keep.The cow jumped over yesterday's moon
and the lock ran away with the key.
You know what you like, and you like what you know
but there is no jam for tea.
Well the light it is failing along the green belt
as we follow the hard road signs.
Semi-detached in our suburban-ness
we're living in these hard times.
Under Wraps #2
Keep it quiet. (Go slow.)
Circulate. Need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file
masquerade, but well worth while.
Wrapped in the warmth of you
wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.Wear an air (keep mum)
of casual indifference.Careful how you go
about your usual business.Wrapped in daydreams of you
wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! I've got you under wraps.
Under wraps! I've got you under wraps.Tell you when (not yet)
soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! Upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.
Wrapped in your Summer night
wrapped in your Autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the Winter of your sleeping.
Only Solitaire
Brain-storming habit-forming battle-warning weary
winsome actor spewing spineless chilling lines ---
the critics falling over to tell themselves he's boring
and really not an awful lot of fun.
Well who the hell can he be when he's never had V.D.,
and he doesn't even sit on toilet seats?
Court-jesting, never-resting
he must be very cunning
to assume an air of dignity
and bless us all with his oratory prowess,
his lame-brained antics and his jumping in the air.
And every night his act's the same
and so it must be all a game of chess he's playing
``But you're wrong, Steve: you see, it's only solitaire.''
Salamander
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.
Moths
The leaded window opened
to move the dancing candle flame
And the first Moths of summer
suicidal came, suicidal came.
And a new breeze chattered
in its May-bud tenderness,
Sending water-lillies sailing
as she turned 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
but before the candle's dead.
The leaded window opened
to move the dancing candle flame.
And the first moths of summer
suicidal came, oh, suicidal came.
To join in the worship
of the light that never dies
in a moment's reflection
of two moths spinning in her eyes.
Nursie
Tip-toes in silence `round my bed
and quiets the raindrops overhead.
With her everlasting smile
She still my fever for a while.
Oh, nursie dear,
I'm glad you're here
to brush away my pain.
Witch's Promise
Lend me your ear while I call you a fool.
You were kissed by a witch one night in the wood,
and later insisted your feelings were true.
The witch's promise was coming,
believing he listened while laughing you flew.Leaves falling red, yellow, brown, all are the same,
and the love you have found lay outside in the rain.
Washed clean by the water but nursing its pain.
The witch's promise was coming, and you're looking
elsewhere for your own selfish gain.Keep looking, keep looking for somewhere to be,
well, you're wasting your time, they're not stupid like he is.
Meanwhile leaves are still falling, you're too blind to see.You won't find it easy now, it's only fair.
He was willing to give to you, you didn't care.
You're waiting for more but you've already had your share.
The witch's promise is turning, so don't you wait up
for him, he's going to be late.
Bungle in the Jungle
Walking through forests of palm tree apartments
scoff at the monkeys who live in their dark tents
down by the waterhole
drunk every Friday
eating their nuts
saving their raisins for Sunday.
Lions and tigers who wait in the shadows
they're fast but they're lazy, and sleep in green meadows.Let's bungle in the jungle
well, that's all right by me.
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree.Just say a word and the boys will be right there:
with claws at your back to send a chill through the night air.
Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?
Thunder and lightning couldn't be bolder.
I'll write on your tombstone, ``I thank you for dinner.''
This game that we animals play is a winner.Let's bungle in the jungle
well, that's all right by me.
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree.The rivers are full of crocodile nasties
and He who made kittens put snakes in the grass.
He's a lover of life but a player of pawns
yes, the King on His sunset lies waiting for dawn
to light up His Jungle
as play is resumed.
The monkeys seem willing to strike up the tune.
Farm On The Freeway
Nine miles of two-strand topped with barbed wire
laid by the father for the son.
Good shelter down there on the valley floor,
down by where the sweet stream run.
Now they might give me compensation...
That's not what I'm chasing. I was a rich man before yesterday.
Now all I have got is a cheque and a pickup truck.
I left my farm on the freeway.They're busy building airports on the south side...
Silicon chip factory on the east.
And the big road's pushing through along the valley floor.
Hot machine pouring six lanes at the very least.
Now, they say they gave me compensation...
That's not what I'm chasing. I was a rich man before yesterday.
Now all I have left is a broken-down pickup truck.
Looks like my farm is a freeway.They forgot they told us what this old land was for.
Grow two tons the acre, boy, between the stones.
This was no Southfork, it was no Ponderosa.
But it was the place that I called home.
They say they gave me compensation...
That's not what I'm chasing. I was a rich man before yesterday.
And what do I want with a million dollars and a pickup truck?
When I left my farm under the freeway.
Thick As A Brick
Really don't mind if you sit this one out.
My words but a whisper - your deafness a SHOUT.
I may make you feel but I can't make you think.
Your sperm's in the gutter - your love's in the sink.
So you ride yourselves over the fields and
you make all your animal deals and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.
And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in
the tidal destruction
the moral melee.
The elastic retreat rings the close of play as the last wave uncovers
the newfangled way.
But your new shoes are worn at the heels and
your suntan does rapidly peel and
your wise men don't know how it feels to be thick as a brick.And the love that I feel is so far away:
I'm a bad dream that I just had today - and you
shake your head and
say it's a shame.Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth.
Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth.
Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song.
Sweet Dream
You'll hear me calling in your sweet dream,
can't hear your daddy's warning cry.
You're going back to be all the things you want to be,
while in sweet dreams you softly sigh.You hear my voice is calling
to be mine again,
live the rest of your life in a day.
Get out and get what you can
while your mummy's at home a-sleeping.
No time to understand
`cause they lost what they thought they were keeping.No one can see us in your sweet dream.
don't hear you leave to start the car.
All wrapped up tightly in the coat you borrowed from me,
your place of resting is not far.You'll hear my voice is calling
to be mine again,
live the rest of your life in a day.
Get out and get what you can
While your mummy's at home a-sleeping.
No time to understand,
`cause they lost what they thought they were keeping.
The Clasp
we travellers on the endless wastes in single orbits,
gliding cold-eyed march towards the dawn 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.Let's break the journey now on some lonely road.
Sit down as strangers will, let the stress unload.
Talk 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.
Pibroch (Pee Break)/Black Satin Dancer (Instrumental)
[Instrumental]
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 been 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 a holy stink.Somebody wake me. I've been 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.
Cheap Day Return
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.
Wond'ring Aloud
Wond'ring aloud
how we feel today.
Last night sipped the sunset
my hands in her hair.
We are our own saviours
as we start both our hearts 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.
Dun Ringill
Spoken Intro:
(Lines join in faint discord and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered.....)Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day.
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play.
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne.In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill.
Oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill, by Dun Ringill.We'll wait in stone circles
'til the force comes through.
Lines join in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered.In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill.
Oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill,
by Dun Ringill,
by Dun Ringill.
Life Is A Long Song
When you're falling awake and you take stock of the new day,
and you hear your voice croak as you choke on what you need to say,
well, don't you fret, don't you fear,
I will give you good cheer.Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.If you wait then your plate I will fill.
As the verses unfold and your soul suffers the long day,
and the twelve o'clock gloom spins the room,
you struggle on your way.
Well, don't you sigh, don't you cry,
lick the dust from your eye.Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.We will meet in the sweet light of dawn.
As the Baker Street train spills your pain all over your new dress,
and the symphony sounds underground put you under duress,
well don't you squeal as the heel grinds you under the wheel.Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.
Life's a long song.But the tune ends too soon for us all.
One White Duck / 0^{10} = Nothing At All
There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a 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 your 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-heeled 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 defense; 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.Well, I'm the Black Ace dog-handler: I'm a waiter on skates
so don't you 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.
Songs From The Wood
Let me bring you songs from the wood:
to make you feel much better than you could know.
Dust you down from tip to toe.
Show you how the garden grows.
Hold you steady as you go.
Join the chorus if you can:
it'll make of you an honest man.Let me bring you love from the field:
poppies red and roses filled with summer rain.
To heal the wound and still the pain
that threatens again and again
as you drag down every lover's lane.
Life's long celebration's here.
I'll toast you all in penny cheer.Let me bring you all things refined:
galliards and lute songs served in chilling ale.
Greetings well met fellow, hail!
I am the wind to fill your sail.
I am the cross to take your nail:
A singer of these ageless times.
With kitchen prose and gutter rhymes.
Songs from the wood make you feel much better.
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're fighting.
Let us close out eyes;
outside their lives go on much faster.
Oh, we won't give in,
we'll keep living in the past.
Teacher
Well the dawn was coming,
heard him ringing on my bell.
He said, ``My name's the teacher,
that is what I call myself.
And I have a lesson
that I must impart to you.
It's an old expression
but I must insist it's true.Jump up, look around,
find yourself some fun,
no sense in sitting there hating everyone.
No man's an island and his castle isn't home,
the nest is for nothing when the bird has flown.''So I took a journey,
threw my world into the sea.
With me went the teacher
who found fun instead of me.Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said?
Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed.
I try to socialize but I can't seem to find
what I was looking for, got something on my mind.Then the teacher told me
it had been a lot of fun.
Thanked me for his ticket
and all that I had done.Hey man, what's the plan, what was that you said?
Sun-tanned, drink in hand, lying there in bed.
I try to socialize but I can't seem to find
what I was looking for, got something on my mind.
Aqualung
Sitting on a park bench
eyeing 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
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet.Feeling alone
the army's up the rode
salvation à 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
madness in the spring.
Locomotive Breath
In the shuffling madess
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 the stations - one by one.
His woman and his best friend
in bed and having fun.
He's 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.