Artist: Jethro Tull Album: Aqualung {1971}

Sitting on a park bench, eyeing little girls with bad intent
Snot running down his nose, greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes - hey, Aqualung
Drying in the cold sun, watching as the frilly panties run - hey, Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck, spitting out pieces of his broken luck - oh, Aqualung

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 road
Salvation � 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 was screaming agony, hey
And you snatch your rattling last breaths with deep-sea-diver sounds
And the flowers bloom like madness in the spring

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, whoa-o-o
Feeling alone, the army's up the road
Salvation � 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, me, whoa-o-o

Aqualung, my friend, don't start away uneasy
You poor old sod, you see, it's only me, yeah

Sitting on a park bench, eyeing little girls with bad intent
Snot running down his nose, greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes - hey, Aqualung
Drying in the cold sun, watching as the frilly panties run - hey, Aqualung
Feeling like a dead duck, spitting out pieces of his broken luck - hey, Aqualung

Whoa-o-o, Aqualung

Who would be a poor man, a beggarman, a thief
If he had a rich man in his hand
And 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
She dines in Hampstead village on expense accounted gruel
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school, hey

Laughing at 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, hey
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 favor's good and strong
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate, helps the poor man get along, hey

Laughing at 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, hey

Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again
She signs no contract but she always plays the game
She dines in Hampstead village on expense accounted gruel
And the jack-knife barber drops her off at school, hey
Cross-Eyed Mary
Oh, Mary, oh, Cross-Eyed Mary

On Preston platform do your soft shoe shuffle dance
Brush away the cigarette ash that's falling down your pants
And then 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

As I did walk by Hampstead Fair
I came upon Mother Goose
So, I turned her loose
Cos 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, yeah
And 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 laborers were laboring and 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 snowman
As I did walk by Hampstead Fair
I came upon Mother Goose
So, I turned her loose
Well, she was screaming

Walked down by the bathing pond to try and catch some sun
Must have been at least a hundred schoolgirls sobbing into handkerchiefs as one
I don't believe they knew I was a schoolboy

Wond'ring aloud how we feel today
Last night sipped the sunset, my hand in her hair
We are our own saviors
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, yeah
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

Oh, yeah

I take her to the cinema
And leave you in a Wimpy Bar
You tell me that we�ve gone to far
Come running up to me
Make the scene at Cousin Jack�s
Leave him put the bottles back
Mends his glasses that I cracked
Well, that's one up to me, hey
Oh, it�s up to me
It�s up to me

I buy a silver cloud to ride
Pack the tennis club inside
Trouser cuffs hung far too wide
Well, it was up to me
Tires down on your bicycle
Your nose feels like an icicle
The yellow fingered smokey girl
Is looking up to me, yeah
Oh, you know, it�s up to me, yeah

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
Oh, it�s up to me
Oh, I said it�s up to me, yeah

The rainy season comes to pass
The day-glo pirate sinks at last
And if I laughed a bit to fast
Well, it was up to me
Take you to the cinema
And leave you in a Wimpy Bar
You tell me that we�ve gone to far
Come running up to me, hey
Whoa, you know it�s up to me, yeah
Said, it�s up to me, yeah

People, what have you done
Locked Him in His golden cage, His golden cage
Made Him bend to your religion
Him resurrected from the grave, 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 inside you and me

So, lean upon Him gently
And don't call on Him to save
You from your social graces, oh
And the sins you used to waive, you used 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
With His plastic crucifix, he's got him fixed
Confuses me as to who and where and why
As to how he gets his kicks, 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

Our Father high in heaven, smile down upon your son, yeah
Who�s busy with his money games, oh, his women and his gun
Oh, Jesus save me
And the unsung Western hero, he killed an Indian or three, yeah
And then he made his name in Hollywood, oh, to set the white man free
Oh, Jesus save me

If Jesus saves, well, He'd better save Himself
From the gory glory seekers who use His name in death, oh
Oh, Jesus save me

If Jesus saves, well, He'd better save Himself
From the gory glory seekers who use His name in death, oh, hey
Oh, Jesus save me

Well, I saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon, yeah
His cross was rather bloody, oh, and He could hardly roll His stone
Oh, Jesus save me

Well, the lush separation unfolds you
And the products of wealth
Push you along on 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
Timeless, unreasoning
Paddle right out of the mess
And you paddle right out of the mess

In the shuffling madness of the locomotive breath
Runs the all-time loser, headlong to his death, oh
He feels the piston scraping, steam breaking on his brow
Old Charlie stole the handle and the train, it won't stop going
No way to slow down, oh

He sees his children jumping off at stations one by one
His woman and his best friend, in bed and having fun, oh
He's crawling down the corridor on his hands and knees
Old Charlie stole the handle and the train, it won't stop going
No way to slow down, yeah

He hears the silence howling, catches angels as they fall
And the all-time winner has got him by the balls, oh
He picks up Gideon's Bible, open at page one
I think that God, He stole the handle and the train, it won't stop going
No way to slow down, no way to slow down, no way to slow down, no way to slow down
No way to slow down, no way to slow down, no way to slow down

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And they 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
And 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
Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers
I don't believe you, you had 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 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 than me
As you lick the boots of death, born out of fear, whoa
When I was young and 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
I left there in the morning with their God under my arm
Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules

Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines

When I was young and they packed me off to school
And they 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, to my old headmaster and to anyone who cares
Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers
Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines
I don't believe you, you had the whole damn thing all wrong
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays

I�ll see you at the weighing-in when you�re life�s sum-total�s made
And you set your wealth in godly deeds against the sins you�ve laid
So, you 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, whoa, whoa

And I say you really should make the deal as he offers round the hat
Well, you better lick your fingers clean, I'll 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 better lick your fingers clean, well, I'll thank you all for that

When I was young and 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
And 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
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 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 than me
As you lick the boots of death, born out of fear, hey
When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game, yeah
I didn't mind if they groomed me for success
Or if they said that I was just a fool
You can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines

In your pomp and all your glory, you're a poorer man than me
As you lick the boots of death, born out of fear

When I was young and 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, to my old headmaster and to anyone who cares
Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers
You can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school
And have all the bishops harmonize these lines
I don't believe you, you had the whole damn thing all wrong, yeah
He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays

Oh, there's a fantastic sound for you
We're heading into our finale at this point, so it's one more from everybody
This is Jethro Tull coming in first of all with a 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
Tell myself tomorrow brings me things I would not dream today

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

Don't want to be a fat man
People would say that I was just good fun, yeah
I would rather be a thin man
I am so glad to go on being one, yeah
Too much to carry around with you
No chance of finding a woman who
Will love you in the morning and all the day time too, woo

I don't want to be a fat man
Have not the patience to ignore all that, yeah
I hate to admit to myself
Half of my problems came from being fat, yeah
Won't waste my time feeling sorry for him
I see the other side through being thin
Roll us both down a mountain and I'm sure the fat man'd win, hee

INSTRUMENTAL