acoustic Tull....
It's some of the greatest stuff ever, this collection of acoustic Jethro Tull. All my favorites, and some forgotten favorites, hand selected by Ian Anderson himself. Lyrically, these songs are also some of the best of Tull. If you're looking to get a really nice collection of Jethro Tull that DOES NOT include the song Aqualung, get this collection.
Below, I've included some of my favorite lyrics from this collection.
"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.
Wondering 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.
Mother Goose
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 hankerchiefs 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.
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.
Skating Away On The Thin Ice Of The New Day
Meanwhile back in the year One --- when you belonged to no-one ---
you didn't stand a chance son, if your pants were undone.
`Cause you were bred for humanity and sold to society ---
one day you'll wake up in the Present Day ---
a million generations removed from expectations
of being who you really want to be.
Skating away ---
skating away ---
skating away on the thin ice of the New Day.
So as you push off from the shore,
won't you turn your head once more --- and make your peace with everyone?
For those who choose to stay,
will live just one more day ---
to do the things they should have done.
And as you cross the wilderness, spinning in your emptiness:
you feel you have to pray.
Looking for a sign
that the Universal Mind (!) has written you into the Passion Play.
Skating away on the thin ice of the New Day.
And as you cross the circle line, the ice-wall creaks behind ---
you're a rabbit on the run.
And the silver splinters fly in the corner of your eye ---
shining in the setting sun.
Well, do you ever get the feeling that the story's
too damn real and in the present tense?
Or that everybody's on the stage, and it seems like
you're the only person sitting in the audience?
Skating away on the thin ice of the New Day.
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.
Grace
Hello sun.
Hello bird.
Hello my lady.
Hello breakfast. May I
buy you again tomorrow?Labels: jethro tull
