Interpret:

Jethro Tull

Album:

Aqualung

When I was young and they packed me off to school 
and the 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 harmonise these lines - 
How do you dare to 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. 
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.