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Jethro Tull lyrics

Album: Minstrel in the Gallery [1975]

Tracks7
 01  Minstrel in the Gallery
 02  Cold Wind to Valhalla
 03  Black Satin Dancer
 04  Requiem
 05  One White Duck / Nothing at All
 06 Baker St. Muse
 07  Grace
all Jethro Tull lyrics



Minstrel in the Gallery
The minstrel in the gallery looked down upon the
Smiling faces.
He met the gazes --- observed the spaces between the
Old men's cackle.
He brewed a song of love and hatred --- oblique
Suggestions --- and he waited.
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters --- static-humming
Panel-beaters --- freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters
(salaried and collar-scrubbing).
He titillated men-of-action --- belly warming, hands
Still rubbing on the parts they never mention.
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.
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 threw away his looking-glass - saw his face in
Everyone.back to top
Cold Wind to Valhalla
And ride with us young bonny lass ---
With the angels of the night.
Crack wind clatter --- flesh rein bite on an out-size
Unicorn.
Rough-shod winging sky blue flight on a cold wind
To valhalla.
And join with us please --- valkyrie maidens cry
Above the cold wind to valhalla.
Break fast with the gods. night angels serve
With ice-bound majesty.
Frozen flaking fish raw nerve ---
In a cup of silver liquid fire.
Moon jet brave beam split ceiling swerve and light
The old valhalla.
Come join with us please --- valkyrie maidens cry
Above the cold wind to valhalla.
The heroes rest upon the sighs of thor's trusty
Hand maidens.
Midnight lonely whisper cries,
``we're getting a bit short on heroes lately.''
Sword snap fright white pale goodbyes in the
Desolation of valhalla.
And join with us please --- valkyrie maidens ride
Empty-handed on the cold wind to valhalla.back to top
Black Satin Dancer
Come, let me play with you, black satin dancer.
In all your giving, given is the answer.
Tearing life from limb and looking sweeter than the
Brightest flower in my garden.
Begging your pardon --- shedding right unreason.
Over sensation fly the fleeting seasons.
Thin wind whispering on broken mandolin.
Bending the minutes --- the hours ever turning on that
Old gold story of mercy.
Desperate breathing. tongue nipple-teasing.
Your fast river flowing --- your northern fire fed.
Come, black satin dancer, come softly to bed.back to top
Requiem
Well, I saw a bird today --- flying from a bush and the
Wind blew it away.
And the black-eyed mother sun scorched the butterfly
At play --- velvet veined.
I saw it burn.
With a wintry storm-blown sigh, a silver cloud blew
Right on by.
And, taking in the morning, I sang --- o requiem.
Well, my lady told me, ``stay.''
I looked aside and walked away along the strand.
But I didn't say a word, as the train time-table blurred
Close behind the taxi stand.
Saw her face in the tear-drop black cab window.
Fading in the traffic; watched her go.
And taking in the morning, heard myself singing ---
O requiem.
Here I go again.
It's the same old story.
Well, I saw a bird today --- I looked aside and walked
Away along the strand.back to top
One White Duck / Nothing at All
There's a haze on the skyline, to wish me on my way.
And there's a note on the telephone --- some roses on a
tray.
And the motorway's stretching right out to us all,
as I pull on my old wings --- one white duck
on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
I'll catch a ride on your violin --- strung upon your bow.
And I'll float on your melody --- sing your chorus soft
and low.
There's a picture-view postcard to say that I called.
You can see from the fireplace, one white duck
on your wall.
Isn't it just too damn real?
So fly away Peter and fly away Paul --- from the
finger-tip ledge of contentment.
The long restless rustle of high-heeled boots calls.
And I'm probably bound to deceive you after all.

Something must be wrong with me and my brain ---
if I'm so patently unrewarding.
But my dreams are for dreaming and best left that
way --- and my zero to your power of ten equals
nothing at all.

There's no double-lock defense; there's no chain on my door.
I'm available for consultation,
But remember your way in is also my way out, and
love's four-letter word is no compensation.

Well, I'm the Black Ace dog-handler: I'm a waiter on
skates --- so don't you jump to your foreskin conclusion.
Because I'm up to my deaf ears in cold breakfast trays ---
to be cleared before I can dine on your sweet Sunday
lunch confusion.back to top
Grace
Hello sun.
Hello bird.
Hello my lady.
Hello breakfast. may i
Buy you again tomorrow?back to top
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