Interpret:

Jethro Tull

Album:

Warchild

I'll see you at the Weighing-In, 
when your life's sum-total's made 
and you set your wealth in Godly deeds 
against the sins you've laid. 
And 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. 


And the hard-headed miracle worker 
who bathes his hands in blood, 
Will welcome you to the final nod --- 
and cover you with mud. 
And he'll say, ``You really should make the deal,'' 
as he offers round the hat. 
``You'd better lick two fingers clean --- 
He'll thank you all for that.'' 
As you slip on the greasy platform, 
and you land upon your back, 
You make a wish and you wipe your nose upon the railway track. 
While the high-strung locomotive, 
with furnace burning bright, 
Lumbers on --- you wave goodbye --- 
and the sparks fade into night. 


And as you join the Good Ship Earth, 
and you mingle with the dust --- 
you'd better leave your underpants 
with someone you can trust. 
And when the Old Man with the telescope 
cuts the final strand --- 
you'd better lick two fingers clean, 
before you shake his hand.