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Lyrics for Part Two by Tull Jethro:
| | | Artist: | Tull Jethro |
| | Album: | Thick As A Brick | | Track: | Part Two | | | | Date Added: | 18/10/2007 | | Views: | 77 | | | | Lyrics: | See there, a man is born, and we pronounce him fit for peace
There's a load lifted from his
shoulders with the discovery of his disease
We'll take the child from him, put it to the
test
Teach it to be a wise man, how to fool the rest
(We will be gearing toward the
average rather than the exceptional)
(God's an overwhelming responsibility)
(We
walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons)
(It says here that
cats are on the upgrade, upgrade ?)
In the clear white circles of morning wonder
I
take my place with the lord of the hills
And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discolored
In neat little rows, sporting canvas frills
With their jock-straps pinching, they
slouch to attention
Whilst queueing for sarnies at the office canteen
Singing, "How's your
grannie ?", and good old Ernie
He coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win
The
legends worded in the ancient tribal hymn
Lie cradled in the seagull's call
And all the
promises they made are ground beneath the sadist's fall
The poet and the wise man stand
behind the gun
And signal for the crack of dawn, light the sun
Do you believe in the day ?
The dawn creation of the kings has begun
Soft Venus lonely maiden brings the
ageless one
Do you believe in the day ?
The fading hero has returned to the
night
And fully pregnant with the day, wise men endorse the poet's sight
Do you believe in
the day ?
Let me tell you the tales of your life
Of your love and the cut of the
knife
The tireless oppression the wisdom instilled
The desire to kill or be
killed
Let me sing of the losers who lie
In the street as the last bus goes by
The
pavements are empty, the gutters run red
While the fool toasts his god in the sky
So, come all ye young men who are building castles
Kindly state the time of the year
And join your voices in a hellish chorus
Mark the precise nature of your fear
Let me help you to pick up your dead
As the sins of the fathers are fed
With the blood of the fools and the thoughts of the wise
And from the pan under your
bed
Let me make you a present of song
As the wise man breaks wind and is gone
While
the fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose
And the nursery rhyme winds along
So, come all ye young men who are building castles
Kindly state the time of the year
And join your voices in a hellish chorus
Mark the precise nature of your fear
See,
the summer lightning casts its bolts upon you
And the hour of judgement draweth near
Would
you be the fool stood in the suit of armour
Of the wiser man who rushes clear ?
So, come on you childhood heroes, won't you rise up from the pages
Of your comic-books,
your super-crooks, and show us all the way ?
Well, make your will and testament, won't you join
your local government ?
We'll have Superman for president, let Robin save the day
So, where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday ?
And where are all the
sportsmen who always pulled you through ?
They're all resting down in Cornwall, writing up
their memoirs
For a paperback edition of the boy scout manual
So you ride
yourselves over the fields
And you make all your animal deals
And your wise men don't
know how it feels
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