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Jethro Tull lyrics

Album: Rock Island [1989]

Tracks10
 01  Kissing Willie
 02  The Rattlesnake Trail
 03  Ears Of Tin
 04  Undressed To Kill
 05  Rock Island
 06  Heavy Water
 07  Another Christmas Song
 08  The Whaler's Dues
 09  Big Riff And Mando
 10  Strange Avenues
all Jethro Tull lyrics



Kissing Willie
Breaking hearts in a market town.
She eats fillet of sole and washes it down with sparkling wine.
Nice girl, but a bad girl's better. Qualifies in both ways
to my mind. But now she's kissing Willie.

She shows a led - shows it damn well.
Knows how to drive a man right back to being a child.
Well, she's a - nice girl, but her bad girl's better.
I can read it in her cheating eyes and know that in a while -
Well, she'll be kissing Willie. (My best friend, Willie.)

Willie stands and Willie falls.
Willie hands his head behind grey factory walls.
She's a - nice girl, but her bad girl's better.
Me and Willie just can't help come, when she calls.
Now she's kissing Willie. (My best friend, Willie.)back to top
The Rattlesnake Trail
Got a hair shirt round my shoulder. Got a cold stew in my spoon.
And I'm falling on my head, lifting feet on lead -
Now it's got me baying at the moon.
Well, there's a race on for tomorrow.
I'm stretching out for what might have been.
Going to come out from the night, get my second sight -
Play round - you know what I mean.
I'm going for the kill. I'm going tooth and nail.
Up that dusty hill - on the rattlesnake trail.

Got the law laid down to the left of me.
Got the real world to the right.
Heading up through the middle with my cat and my fiddle -
Yeah, looking for a fight.
Going to ride hard in bandit country - on the blind side of the bend.
Keep my nose to the wind while the rabbit's skinned -
Bed down at the journey's and.
I'm going for the kill. I'm going tooth and nail
Up that dusty hill - on the rattlesnake trail.

The rattlesnake trail.
I'm going on the rattlesnake trail.

Going to be with wolves in winter - run in angry packs by day.
But when you give the dog a bone, he has to be alone -
Growl, keep the other dogs away.
See that thin moon on the mountain. See that cold star in the sky.
Going to bring them down - shake them to the ground -
Put that apple in the pie.
I'm going for the kill. I'm going tooth and nail
Up that dusty nill - on the rattlesnake trail.back to top
Ears Of Tin
In the last hours of a sunset rendezvous -
Chill breeze against tide, that carries me from you.
Got a job in a southern city - got some lead-free in my tank.
Now I must whisper goodbye - I'm bound for the mainland.

Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humainity.

Now the sun breaks through rain as I climb Glen Shiel
On the trail of those old cattlemen who drove
their bargain south again.
And in the eyes of those five sisters of Kintail
There's a wink of seduction from the mainland.

Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise - their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter. Falling on ears of tin.

Take my heart and take my brawn.
Take by stealth or take by storm - set my brain to "cruise".
I can see the glow of suburb lights.
I'm fresh from the out-world - singing the mainland blues.

There was a girl where I came from.
Seems like a long time, long time gone by.
Wears the west wind in her hair.
She calls from the hill - yeah, she calls in my mainland blues.

There's a coast road that winds to heaven's door
Where a fat ferry floats on muted diessel roar.
And there's a light on the hillside - and there's a flame in her eyes
But how cold the lights burn on the mainland.

Island in the city. Cut by a cold sea.
People moving on an ocean. Groundswell of humanity.
Storm-lashed on the high-rise. Their words are spray to the wind.
Blown like silent laughter and falling on ears of tin
In my mainland blues.back to top
Undressed To Kill
Working on the late shift - first drink of the day.
Pull a cnair up to the table, have to look the other way.
What kind of place am I in ? And who's this over here ?
Shaking through the silver bubbles climbing through my beer.
Won't let it move me, but I can't sit still.
Could you meet the eyes of a working girl
Undressed to kill ?

Staring through the smoke haze - plaid shirts in the night.
Well, I'm making sure that everything is zipped up tight.
Who's that jumping on the table ? Putting tonic in my gin ?
Brushing silken dollars on her cold white skin.
Won't let it move me, but I can't sit still.
Could you meet the eyes of a working girl
Undressed to kill.

She could have been sweet seventeen. There again, well, so could I.
There was a tear drop sparkle on the inside of her thigh.
Going to fetch myself a cold beer. I've got to get a grip.
Find some place to touch down. Find a landing strip.
Won't let it move me, but I can't sit still.
Can you meet the eyes of a working girl
All undressed to kill ?

Last one out is a cold duck. Padding down the road.
I wait outside, my motor running - got a warm dream to unload.
Can I face her in the sunshine ? In the harsh real light of day ?
She walks out with recognition in her eyes - I look away.
Won't let it move me, but I can't sit still.
Couldn't meet the eyes of a working girl
Undressed to kill.back to top
Rock Island
Savage night on a misty island.
Lights wink out in the canyon walls.
Two old boys in a stolen racer.
Black rubber contrails in the unwashed halls.
And all roads out of here seem to lead right back to the
Rock Island.

I've gone from here to Paris, London,
And even riding on a jumbo to Bombay.
The long haul back holds faint attraction,
But the people here know they're O.K.
See the girl following the red balloon: walking all alone
On her Rock Island.

Doesn't everyone have their own Rock Island ?
Their own little patch of sand ?
Where the slow waves crawl and your angels fall
And you find you can hardlystand.
And just as you're drowning, well, the tide goes down.
And you're back on your Rock Island.

Hey there, girlie with the torn dress, shaking:
Who was it touched you ? Who was it ruined your day ?
Whose foolprint calling card ? And what they want.
Stepping on your beach anyway ?
I'll be your life raft out of here, but you'd only drift right
Back to your Rock Island.

Hey, boy with the personal stereo: nothing 'tween the ears
But that hard rock sound.
Playing to your empty room, empty guitar tune.
No use waiting for that C.B.S. to come around.
'Cos all roads out of here seem to lead right back to the
Rock Island.back to top
Heavy Water
I walked out in the city night.
A burning in my yes, like it was broad daylight.
And it was hot, down these in the crowd.
The stars went out behind a thunder cloud.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
Heavy water on me.

She was a southern girl. We stared man to man.
I moved like a stranger in this strange land.
She was a round hole. I was a square peg.
I watched the little black specks running down her leg.
Didn't seem to mind that dirty rain coming down -
Shirt hanging open. She was wet and brown.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
Heavy water on me.

What goes up has to fall back down.
It's no night to be out dancing in a party town
When it runs hot and it runs so wide -
Running in the street like a thin black tide.
Chatter in the air, like a telegraph line.
Big drops hissing on the neon sign.
Thumping in my heart, and it's hurting me to see
Smokestack blowing, now they're pouring
Heavy water on me.back to top
Another Christmas Song
Hope everybody's ringing on their own bell, this fine morning.
Hope everyone's connected to that long distance phone.
Old man, he's a mountain.
Old man, he's an island.
Old man he's a-waking says
" I'm going to call, call all my children home."

Hope everybody's dancing to their own drum, this fine morning -
The beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town.
Old man, he's calling for his supper.
Calling for his whisky.
Calling for sons and daughters, yeah -
Calling all his children round.

Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming.
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory.
Everyone is from somewhere - even if you've never been there.
So take a minute to remember the part of you
That might be the old man calling me.

How many wars you fighting out there, this fine winter's morning ?
Maybe there's always time for another Christmas song.
Old man is asleep now.
Got appointments to keep now.
Dreaming of his sons and his daughters, and proving -
Proving that the blood is strong.back to top
The Whaler's Dues
Money spraks. Soft hearts lose. The truth only whispers.
It's the whaler's dues.

I've been running borrowed time, if truth's to be told.
Two whales in the ocean, cruising the night
Search for each other before we turn out thir light.

Been accused of deep murder on thee North Atlantic swell
But I have three hungry children and a young wife as well.
And behind stand generations of hard hunting men
Who raised a glass to the living, and went killing again.
Are you with me ?

Money speaks, soft hearts lose. The truth only whispers.
Now pay the whaler's dues.
Can you forgive me ?

Now I'm old and I sit land-locked in a back-country jail
To reflect on all of my sins and the death of the whale.
Send me back down the ages. Put me to sea once again
When the oceans were full - yes, and men would be men.
Can you forgive mee ?back to top
Big Riff And Mando
Marty loveed th sound of the stolen mandolin.
Somebody took it on a dare in the night-time.
Ran up to the radio, calling out to the wind.
Now, bring it, bring it back at least an hour before flight time.
It was a souvenir, but it was a right arm missing.
Swap a woodwork rhythm for a humbucking top line.

Big Riff, rough boy, wants to be a singer in a band.
A little slow in the brain box, but he had a quick right hand.
Run left, run right - everywhere he look -
Nobody watching, no, but that was all he took last night.

Running on the power of a stolen mandolin.
Steal a little inspiration. Steal a little muscle.
Will he wake in the morning, wondering - was it really worth it ?
So, make a little deal. Yeah make a little hustle.

Ringing on the radio - got a proposition for those English boys.
I'll make the sing-song - you can make the background noise.
One, two, three, four - one bar and in.
Give you back the mango, if you'll let this singer sing tonight.

Marty loved the sound of the stolen mandolin.
Big Riff took it on a dare in the night-time.
Now it's four o'clock, and we're waiting at the sound-check.
Looking for a facee staring in from the sunshine.
We got two strong lowmen from the sheriff's office.
They're going to lift Big Riff before he plays the first line.

Big Riff, rough boy, wants to be a singer in a band.
Year, help him on the stage now, put that microphone in his hand.
Think hard. Think right - nothing in his mind -
So Riff did a runner, but he left the mandolin behind.back to top
Strange Avenues
Strange avenues where you lose all sense of direction
And everywhere is Main Street in the winter sun.
The wind sleeps - cold coat lined with money section.
Lookihg like a record cover from 1971.

And here am I - warm feet and a limo wating.
Shell I make us both feel good ? And would a dollar do ?
But in your streets I have no credit rating
And it might not take a lot to be alone just like you.

Heading up and out now, from your rock island.
Really good to have had you here with me.
And somewhere in thew crowd I think I hear a young girl whisper
" Are you ever lonely, just like me ?"





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