Artist: Jethro Tull Album: Repeat - The Best Of Jethro Tull - Vol. II {1977}

The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces in between the old men's cackle
And he brewed a song of love and hatred, oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters, static-humming panel-beaters
The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run
And he threw away his looking-glass and saw his face in everyone, hey
Titillated men of action, belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention, salaried and collar-scrubbing, yeah

He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating one-line jokers
T.V. documentary makers, overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players, family-scarred and women-haters
And then he called the band down to the stage and he looked at all the friends he'd made
The minstrel in the gallery looked down on the rabbit-run
And he threw away his looking-glass and saw his face in everyone, hey

The minstrel in the gallery, yeah, yes
Looked down upon the smiling faces
Met the gazes, yeah
The minstrel in the gallery
Then he waited, yeah

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

My first and last time with you and we had some fun
Went walking through the trees, yeah, and 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
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 for a game to play
My luck should be so bad now to turn out this way
I had to leave today just when I thought I'd found you
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

I've come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways
My father was a man of power whom everyone obeyed
So, come on all you criminals, I've got to put you straight
Just like I did with my old man twenty years too late

Your bread and water's going cold, your hair is short and neat
I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no one judges me

Would you like another cup of tea, dear
Um, no, no, no - I, I'd better go, actually, I'm going to be late for the office


I'll take you down to that bright city mile
There to powder your sweet face and paint on a smile
That will show all of the pleasures and none of the pain
When you join my explosion and play with my games

Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away
Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away

No unconditional surrender, no armistice day
Each night I'll die in my contentment and lie in your grave
While you bring me water and I give you wine
Let me dance in your tea-cup and you shall swim in mine

Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away

Open your windows and I'll walk through your doors
Let me live in your country, let me sleep by your shores

Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away
Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away
Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away
Warchild, dance the days and dance the nights away
Warchild

Flee the icy Lucifer, oh, he's an awful fellow
What a mistake, I didn't take a feather from his pillow
Here's the everlasting rub - neither am I good or bad
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had
I'm only breathing, there's life on my ceiling, the flies there are sleeping quietly

Twist my right arm in the dark, I would give two or three for
One of those days that never made impressions on the old score
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree
Everyone's saved, we're in the grave - see you there for afternoon tea
Time for awaking, the tea lady's making a brew-up and baking new bread, woo

Pick me up at half past none, there's not a moment to lose
There is the train on which I came, on the platform are my old shoes
Station master rings his bell, whistles blow and flags wave
A little of what you fancy does you good, or so it should
I thank everybody for making me welcome, I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off

Flying so high, trying to remember
How many cigarettes did I bring along
When I get down I'll jump in a taxi cab
Driving through London town to cry you a song

It's been a long time, still shakin' my wings
Well, I'm a glad bird, I got changes to ring

Closing my dream inside its paper-bag
Thought I saw angels but I could have been wrong
Search in my case, can't find what they're looking for
Waving me through to cry you a song

It's been a long time, still shaking my wings
Well, I'm a glad bird, I got changes to ring

Lights in the street, peeping through curtains drawn
Rattling of safety chain, taking too long
The smile in your eyes was never so sweet before
Came down from the skies to cry you a song

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

Now, he's too old to rock 'n' roll but he's too young to die
Yes, he's too old to rock 'n' roll but he's too young to die

He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville
Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs, prays that he always will
But he's the last of the blue blood greaser boys and all of 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 tennis club do's
For drinks on a Sunday, work on Monday, they've thrown away their blue suede shoes

Now, they're too old to rock 'n' roll and they're too young to die
Now, yes, they're too old to rock 'n' roll and they're too young to die

So, the old rocker gets out his bike to make a ton before he takes his leave
Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner, just like it used to be
And as he flies, tears in his eyes, his wind-whipped words echo the final take
And he hits the trunk road doing around a hundred and twenty with no room left to brake

And he was too old to rock 'n' roll and he was too young to die
Oh, he was too old to rock 'n' roll and he was too young to die
No, you are never too old to rock 'n' roll if you�re too young to die
No, you are never too old to rock 'n' roll, but he was too young to die

Rise up all you fine young ladies and take arms for the show
Oh, we'll put your name up in the lights, put you down on Glory Row
Would you be the star of ages to light your own way at night
Might be a former beauty queen with your high smile stuck on so tightly
They come and they go down on Glory Row
It's the same old story, yes, it's the same old show, oh

Well, hello all you gentlemen, I fear I'm a lot like you
We're wearing the same school tie but a different pair of shoes
How did you get to be who you are, will your children share the blame
Is it really worth the time it takes to carve your name
On Glory Row, they come and they go
It's the same old story, yes, it's the same old show

Oh, down on Glory Row
It's the same old story, yes, it's the same old show, yes

Glory Row, come and go
Yeah, on Glory Row
Same old story on Glory Row
On Glory Row, on Glory Row, Glory Row