MELHORES MÚSICAS / MAIS TOCADAS
jethro tull - aqualung
Sitting on a park bench
Eyeing little girls with bad intent.
Snot is running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Hey aqualung!
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Hey aqualung!
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Sun streaking cold
An old man wandering lonely.
Taking time
The only way he knows.
Leg hurting bad,
As he bends to pick a dog-end
He goes down to the park and
Warms his feet.
Feeling alone
The army's up the road
Salvation a la mode and
A cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend
Don't ya start away uneasy
You poor old sod
You see it's only me.
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze
And the ice that clings on to your beard
Is screaming agony
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
With deep-sea diver sounds,
And the flowers bloom like
Madness in the spring.
jethro tull - a new day yesterday
My first and last time with you
and we had some fun
went walking through the trees
and than 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
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
jethro tull - baker street muse
Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel.
Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel.
In the underpass, the blind man stands with cold flute hands.
Symphony match-seller, breath out of time.
You can call me on another line.
Indian restaurants that curry my brain.
Newspaper warriors changing the names
They advertise from the station stand
with cold print hands.
Symphony word-player, I'll be your headline.
If you catch me another time.
Didn't make her - with my Baker Street Ruse.
Couldn't shake her - with my Baker Street Bruise.
Like to take her - I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
Ale-spew, puddle-brew - boys, throw it up clean.
Coke and Bacardi colours them green.
From the typing pool goes the mini-skirted princess with great finesse.
Fertile earth-mother, your burial mound is fifty feet down in the Baker
Street underground.
What the Hell?
I didn't make her - with my Baker Street Ruse.
Couldn't shake her - with my Baker Street Bruise.
Like to take her - I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
Walking down the gutter thinking, "How the Hell am I today?"
Well, I didn't really ask you but thanks all the same.
("Pig-me and the Whore")
"Big bottled Fraulein, put your weight on me,"
said the pig-me to the whore,
desperate for more in his assault upon the mountain.
Little man, his youth a fountain.
Overdrafted and still counting.
Vernacular, verbose;
an attempt at getting close
to where he came from.
In the doorway of the stars,
between Blandford Street and Mars.
Proposition, deal.
Flying button feel.
Testicle testing.
Wallet ever-bulging.
Dressed to the left,
divulging the wrinkles of his years.
Wedding-bell induced fears.
Shedding bell-end tears
in the pocket of her resistance.
International assistance
flowing generous and full
to his never-ready tool.
Pulls his eyes over her wool.
And he shudders as he comes
And my rudder slowly turns me into the Marylebone Road.
("Crash-barrier Waltzer")
And here slip I - dragging one foot in the gutter.
In the midnight echo of the shop that sells cheap radios.
And there sits she - no bed, no bread nor butter.
On a double yellow line where she can park anytime.
Old Lady Grey, crash-barrier Waltzer.
Some only son's mother. Baker Street casualty.
Oh, Mr. Policeman - blue shirt ballet master.
Feet in sticking plaster - Move the old lady on.
Strange pas-de-deux - His Romeo to her Juliet.
Her sleeping draught his poisoned regret.
No drunken bums allowed to sleep here in the crowded emptiness.
Oh officer, oh let me send her to a cheap hotel.
I'll pay the bill and make her well - like hell you bloody will!
No do-good over kill. We must teach them to be still more independent.
("Mother England Reverie")
I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone.
I have no wish for wishing-wells or wishing bones.
I have no house in the country I have no motor-car.
And if you think I'm joking,
then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar.
And it seems there's no-body left for tennis;
and I'm a one-band-man.
And I want no Top Twenty funeral
or a hundred grand.
There was a little boy stood on a burning log,
rubbing his hands with glee.
He said, "Oh Mother England, did you light my smile;
or did you light this fire under me?"
One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery.
And paint you a picture of the Queen.
And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree,
it's just the nonsense that it seems.
So I drift down through the Baker Street valley,
in my steep-sided un-reality.
And when all's said and all's done - couldn't wish for a better one.
It's a real-life ripe dead-certainty - that I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
Talking to the gutter-stinking, winking in the same old way.
I tried to catch my eye but I looked the other way.
Indian restaurants that curry my brain.
Newspaper warriors changing the names
they advertise from the station stand.
Circumcised with cold print hands.
Windy bus-stop. Click. Shop-window. Heel.
Shady gentleman. Fly-button. Feel.
In the underpass, the blind man stands with cold flute hands.
Symphony match-seller, breath out of time.
You can call me on another line.
Didn't make her - with my Baker Street Ruse.
Couldn't shake her - with my Baker Street Bruise.
Like to take her - I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
I'm just a Baker Street Muse.
Just a Baker Street Muse...
jethro tull - 17
I remember when
We had a lot of things to do,
Impressed by all the words we read
And the heroes that we knew.
Climb on your your dream,
A dream of our own making
To find a place that we could later lose
To whatever time would bring.
We were seventeen
And the cakeman was affecting you,
Moving you to greater things
(in a lesser way) you had to prove.
The clock struck summertime.
You were going round in circles now.
Wishing you were seventeen.
At twenty-one, it was a long time gone.
And now here you are.
You're locked in your own excuse.
The circle's getting smaller every day.
You're busy planning your next fifty years.
So stay the way you are
And keep your head down to the same old ground.
Just paint your picture boy until you find
A closed circle's better than an open line.
Yes stay the way you are.
I got a circle that's the same as yours.
It may be bigger, but i've more to lose.
Who is the luckier man me or you?
jethro tull - witch s promise
Lend me your ear while I call you a fool.
You were kissed by a witch one night in the wood,
and later insisted your feelings were true.
The witch's promise was coming,
believing he listened while laughing you flew.
Leaves falling red, yellow, brown, all are the same,
and the love you have found lay outside in the rain.
Washed clean by the water but nursing its pain.
The witch's promise was coming, and you're looking
elsewhere for your own selfish gain.
Keep looking, keep looking for somewhere to be,
well, you're wasting your time, they're not stupid like he is.
Meanwhile leaves are still falling, you're too blind to see.
You won't find it easy now, it's only fair.
He was willing to give to you, you didn't care.
You're waiting for more but you've already had your share.
The witch's promise is turning, so don't you wait up
for him, he's going to be late.
jethro tull - queen and country
The wind is on the river and the tide has turned too late,
so we're sailing for another shore where some other ladies wait.
To throw us silken whispers: catch us by the anchor chains,
but we all laugh so politely and we sail on just the same
for Queen and Country in the long dying day,
And it's been this way for five long years, since we signed our souls away.
We bring back gold and ivory; rings of diamonds; strings of pearls
make presents to the government so they can have their social whirl
with Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
They build schools and they build factories with the spoils of battles won.
And we remain their pretty sailor boys hold our heads up to the gun.
Of Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
To Queen and Country in the long dying day.
And it's been this way for five long years since we signed our souls away.
jethro tull - hymn 43
Our father high in heaven smile down upon your son
who is busy with his money games - his women and his gun
Oh jesus save me
And the unsung western hero he killed an indian or three
And then he made his name in holywood to set the white man free
Oh jesus save me
If jesus saves well he better save himself
From the gory glory seekers who use his name in death
Oh jesus save me
Well i saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon
His cross was rather bloody he could hardly roll his stone
Oh jesus save me
jethro tull - still loving you tonight
It's a lonely life I life and I life 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.
I left 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.
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.
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
and it's a good thing that happened to me today.
I'll still be loving you tonight.
jethro tull - pibroch
There's a light in the house, in the wood in the valley.
There's a thought in the head, of the man.
Who carries his dreams, like the coat slung on his shoulder,
Bringing you love, in the cap in his hand.
And each step he takes, is one half of a life-time:
No word he would say, could you understand.
So he bundles his regrets, into a gesture of sorrow,
Bringing you love, cap in hand.
Catching breath, as he looks through the dining-room window:
Candle-lit table, for two has been laid.
Strange slippers by the fire:
Strange boots in the hall-way.
Put my cap on my head - I turn, and walk away.
jethro tull - critique oblique
Critic of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play gets in the way - spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
Why the old dogs howl with sadness.
Spoken:
The blue thing in the ball leaves naught but a bloody footprint on the memory of last summer's trip to Europe.
Did you buy a passport from the queen?
Spoken:
And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulder of a young horse named George
who stole surreptitiously into her geography revision.
The examining body examined her body.
jethro tull - dot com
It's a wide world out there
So much wider than imagined
I can't quite put my finger on the pulse
Of your heart softly beating
Just beneath the raw silk sheen
That reflects the tints of autumn from the hills.
So punch my name.
And in case you wonder -
I'll be yours - yours, dot com.
Executive accommodation
Bland but nonetheless appealing
Waiters discretely at your beck and call
Place the tall sun-down potion
Lightly by your velvet elbow
While you compose a message on the wall.
So punch my name.
And in case you wonder -
I'll be yours - yours, dot com.
With your handmade leather valise
Packed and ready, ready waiting
Showered and dressed down lightly for the heat
Gice a clue; leave a kind word
Hint as to a destination
A domain where our cyber-souls might meet.
So punch my name.
And in case you wonder -
I'll be yours - yours, dot com.
jethro tull - journeyman
Spine-tingling railway sleepers
Sleepy houses lying four-square and firm
Orange beams divide the darkness
Rumbling fit to turn the making worm.
Sliding throough Victorian tunnels
where green moss oozes from the pores.
Dull echoes from the wet embankments
Battlefield allotments. Fresh open sores.
In a late night commuter madness
Double-locked black briefcase on the floor
like a faithful dog with master
sleeping in the draught beside the carriage door.
To each Journeyman his own home-coming
Cold supper nearing with each station stop
Frosty flakes on empty plataforms
Fireside slippers waiting - Flip. Flop
Journeymannight-tripping on the late fantastic
Too late to stop for tea at Gerrards Cross
and hear the soft shoes on the footbridge shuffle
as the wheels turn biting on the midnight frost.
On the late commuter special
Carriage lights that flicker, fade and die
Howling into hollow blackness
Dusky diesel shudder in full cry
Down redundant morning papers
Abandon crosswords with a cough.
Stationmaster in his wisdom
toldthe guard to turn the heating off.
jethro tull - look at the animals
The tiny ant leaves his tiny ant drops in the sand,
And makes his home inside a rusty watering can,
Occasionally going out to look for bread and jam.
He runs into a sparrow who hasn't eaten for a week,
And later, quite contented, the sparrow cleans his beak,
Failing to notice pussy cat has come out to take a leak.
Our cat partakes of dinner when a sudden kangaroo
Emerges from the undergrowth and asks to use the loo.
Kangaroos aren't usually dangerous, for that would never do.
My goodness, will you look at all the animals queuing on the stairs!
Look at the animals in the zoo; how would you like to be one?
They're waiting to use the lavatory and putting chewing gum in each other's hair.
Look at the animals, look at you; well how would you like to free one?
Good gracious, will you look at all the animals playing with their tools!
Look at the animals, look at you; well how would you like to queer one?
Flying from the chandeliers and treading in their elephantine stools.
Look at the animals, two by two; aren't you glad to be one?
This kangaroo's a lunatic and his pouch is very full
Of pussy cats and penguins who can't fly as a rule,
But then neither could the pussy cat: he never went to school.
The kangaroo gets nervous when confronted by the size
Of an elephant named Simon who is always telling lies;
He swears he wears green corduroys and can button up his fly.
Presently, a fatter Simon's indigestion fails.
He regurgitates the whole damn mess into an aluminum pail,
And the tiny ant scuttles back inside his watering can
Occasionally going out to look for bread and jam.
jethro tull - a time for everything
Once it seemed there would always be
a time for everything.
Ages passed I knew at last
my life had never been.
I'd been missing what time could bring.
Fifty years and I'm filled with tears and joys
I never cried.
Burn the wagon and chain the mule.
The past is all denied.
There's no time for everything.
No time for everything.
jethro tull - a gift of roses
I count the hours: you count the days.
Together, we count the minutes in this Passion Play.
Walk dusty miles. And I ride that train
on a first class ticket, just to be with you again.
Picking up tired feet. Back from a far horizon.
Cleaned up and brushed down. Dressed to look the part.
Fresh from God's garden, I bring a gift of roses:
To stand in sweet spring water and press them to your heart.
Like the Kipling cat, I walk alone -
Never inviting trouble, never casting the stone.
But this badge of honour is of tarnished tin.
Lightyour guiding beacon to bring this fisher in.
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