Interpret:

Jethro Tull

Album:

Storm Watch

Darlings are you ready for the long winter's fall? 
said the lady in her parlor 
said the butler in the hall. 
Is there time for another? 
cried the drunkard in his sleep. 
Not likely 
said the little child. What's done 
the Lord can keep. 
And the vicar stands a-praying. 
And the television dies 
as the white dot flickers and is gone 
and no-one stops to cry. 
The big jet rumbles over runway miles 
that scar the patchwork green 
where slick tycoons and rich buffoons 
have opened up the seam 
of golden nights and champagne flights 
ad-man overkill 
and in the haze 
consumer crazed 
we take the sugar pill. 
Jagged fires mark the picket lines 
the politicians weep 
and mealy-mouthed 
through corridors of power on tip-toe creep. 
Come and see bureaucracy 
make its final heave 
and let the new disorder through 
while senses take their leave. 
Families screaming line the streets 
and put the windows through 
in corner shops 
where keepers kept 
the country's life-blood blue. 
Take their pick 
and try the trick 
with loaves and fishes shared 
and the vicar shouts 
as the lights go out, 
and no-one really cares. 


Dark Ages 
shaking the dead 
Closed pages 
better not read 
Cold rages 
burn in your head.