Artist: Jethro Tull Album: Jethro Tull In Concert Live At The BBC 1991 {1995}

The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces between the old men's cackle

Mary

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, yeah

Cross-Eyed Mary goes jumping in again
Well, 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

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 and her favor's good and strong
She's the Robin Hood of Highgate, helps the poor man get along, right, yeah

Cross-Eyed Mary

Winds howled, rains spit down
All these nights playing precious games
Cheap hotel in some seaboard town
Closed down for the winter and whispered names
Puppy-dog waves on a big moon sea
Snapped our heels half-heartedly
How come you know better than me that this is not love
No, this is not love

Empty drugstore postcards freeze
Sunburst images of summers gone
Think I see us in these promenade days
Before we learned October's song
Out on the headland, one gale-whipped tree
Curious, head bent to see
How come you know better than me that this is not love
No, this is not love, this is not love

How come you know better than me
And how come you know better than me
So, how come you know better than me that this is not love
This is not love

Down to the sad south, smokey plumes
Mark that real world city home
Broken spells and silent gloom
Ooze from that concrete honeycomb
Puppy-dog waves on a big moon sea
Snapped our heels half-heartedly
How come you know better than me that this is not love
No, this is not love, this is not love
Well, this is not love, this is not love, this is not love


Thank you, good evening, hello, how are you
Nice to see you, right

Well, it's you again - got anything interesting to tell me

We'll play you a song that's from the new LP
And, uh, it's not meant in any way to lament the, the miserable life of the rock star on the road or anything
You shouldn't feel sorry for them - bastards
Staying in their five-star hotels and sipping champagne late into the night
Isn't that right, Martin - of the the tight trouser
No, this is a song about a traveling salesman, it's called Rocks On The Road


There's a black cat down on the quayside
Ship's lights, green eyes glowing in the dark
Two young cops handing out a beating
Know how to hurt and leave no mark
Yeah, down in the half-lit bar of the hotel
There's a call for the last round of the day
Push back the stool, take that elevator ride
Fall in bed and kick my shoes away, kick my shoes away, kick my shoes away
Rocks on the road

Can't sleep through the wild sound of the city
Hear a car full of young boys heading for a fight
Long distance telephone keeps ringing out engaged
Wonder who you're talking with tonight, talking with tonight, who you talking with tonight
Rocks on the road, yeah

Tired plumbing wakes me in the morning
Shower runs hot, runs cold, playing with me
I'm up for the down side, life's a bitch and all that stuff
So, come and shake some apples from my tree
Have to pay for my minibar madness
Itemized phone bill overload
Well, now, how about some heavy rolling
Move these rocks on the road, on the road, rocks on the road - yeah

Crumbs on the breakfast table and a million other little things to spoil my day
How about a little light music - chase it all away, chase it all away

There's a black cat down on the quayside
Ship's lights, green eyes glowing in the dark
Two young cops handing out a beating
Know how to hurt and leave no mark
Well, down in the half-lit bar of the hotel
There's a call for the last round of the day
Push back the stool, take that elevator ride
Fall in bed and kick my shoes away, kick my shoes away, kick my shoes away
Rocks on the road
Kick my shoes away, kick my shoes away
Rocks on the road

This is called Heavy Horses


Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust, an October's day towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough, salt on a deep chest, 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 woods behind the young trees growing
To hide you from eyes that mock at your girth - you're 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 we'll strain once again to the sound of the gulls in the wake of the deep plough, sharing

Heavy horses, move the land under me
Behind the plough gliding, slipping and sliding free
Nowm you're down to the few and there's no work to do
The tractor's on its way

Standing like tanks on the brow of a 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

Bring a song for the evening, clean brass to flash the dawn
Across these acres, glistening like dew on a carpet lawn
In these dark towns folk lie sleeping as the heavy horses thunder by
To wake the dying city with the living horseman's cry

Iron-clad feather-feet pounding the dust, an October's day towards evening
Sweat embossed veins standing proud to the plough, salt on a deep chest, seasoning
Bring me a wheel of oaken wood, a rein of polished leather
A heavy horse and a tumbling sky, brewing heavy weather

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
Oh, 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


Well, thank you very much, thank you, thanks a lot
Thank you very much, thank you

Back in 1984, or thereabouts, we had a visit from across the Atlantic
It was none other than the Thick As A Brick pajama-clad Doane Perry who visited us back then
Anyway, Doane, uh, came over for his audition back in eight-four
And this is a song about his first visit to a British Indian restuarant
Where he spied this rather young lady, um, a serving lady
That's not too, uh, sexist a remark, but I mean a waitress, whatever you would call it
Uh, she was a nice girl and Doane, in his pre-matrimonial state expressed some interest in her parts
That's not really true, he thought she was a nice girl, I thought you were probably going to get married
You would've ended up with one of those red dots in the middle of your head
Anyway, this is, uh, about Doane's visit to the Indian restuarant
And, uh, in the third verse Doane, in fact, gets a personal mention, as do his underpants
It's called Like A Tall Thin Girl - woo


Well, I don't care to eat out in smart restaurants
I'd rather do a Vindaloo, take away is what I want
I went down to the old Bengal having telephoned a treat
When I saw her framed in the kitchen door, she looked good enough to eat and I mean eat
She was a tall thin girl
She looked like a tall thin girl

She said, "Whose is this carry-out," my face turned chili red
Well, I don't know about carrying out, but you can carry me off to bed and I mean bed
She was a tall thin girl
She looked like a tall thin girl
Can I fetch for it
Maybe I can stretch for it - stretch for it
I may not be a fat man and I'm not exactly small
But when it all comes down, couldn't stand my ground, this girl was tall and I mean tall

Well, Big Boy Doane, he's a drummer, don't play no tambourine
But he's Madras hot on the bongo trot if you know just what I mean
Well, stands six foot three in his underwear, going to get him down here and see
If this good lady's got a little sister bout the same size as me, yeah
She was a tall thin girl
She looked like a tall thin girl
Can I fetch for it
Maybe I can stretch for it - stretch for it
Well, am I up for it - up for it
Do I have to go down for it - down for it

It�s a lonely life I live and I live this life to go
And if I leave you with one thing, it�s just that I want you to know
I�ll still be loving you tonight
Put flowers on your table, left the lock on your door
Staked a claim in your heartlands, put grain in your store
I�ll still be loving you tonight, still loving you tonight

Got fingers on the button of that telephone dial
Call in and move your mountains, fill your spaces while
I�m still loving you tonight, yes, still loving you tonight

You want to know how I can leave you
How I can move along this way
Too much of a good thing can make you crazy
Well, it�s a good thing that happened to me today
I�ll still be loving you tonight, still be loving you tonight

It�s a lonely life I live and I live this life to go
And if I leave you with one thing, it�s just that I want you to know
I�ll still be loving you tonight, yes, still loving you tonight

I�ll still be loving you tonight, well, I�ll still be loving you tonight
I�ll still be loving you tonight, I�ll still be loving you tonight

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, hey
In the tidal destruction, the moral melee
And the elastic retreat rings the close of play, hey
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 said 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 back down the ages, let them sing the song

See there, a son is born and we pronounce him ready to fight
There are black-heads on his shoulders and he pees himself in the night
We'll make a man of him, put him to a trade
Teach him to play Monopoly and how to sing in the rain

I've come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways
My father was a man of power whom everyone obeyed

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

My first and last time with you, oh, and we had some fun
Went walking through the woods now, then I kissed you once
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

Spent a long time looking, oh, for a game to play
My luck should be so bad now to turn out this way
Oh, I want to see you soon, but I wonder how
It was a new day yesterday but it's an old day now

It was a new day yesterday, it was a new day yesterday
It was a new day yesterday but it's an old day now

INSTRUMENTAL

In the dark of the city backwoods something stirs then slips away
Law and order in darkest Knightsbridge, crime and punishment at play
Hey, Mr. Policeman won't you come on over
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start, tow me away
Jump start, tow me away

Through the bruised machinery, the smoking haze of industry
Another day with ball and chain, I do my time, then home again
Hey, Mrs. Maggie won't you come on over
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start, tow me away, yeah
Jump start, tow me away

Should I blame the officers or maybe I should blame the priest
Or should I blame the poor foot soldier who's left to make the most from least
Hey, Jack Ripper won't you come on over
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start, tow me away, yeah
Jump start, tow me away

Should I blame the newsman talking at you on the satellite T.V.
And if you're fighting for your shipyards, you might as well just blame the sea
Hey, Jack the Weatherman come on over
Hook me up to the power lines of your love
Jump start, or tow me away, yeah
Jump start, or tow me away