Jethro Tull A Christmas Song

Once in Royal David’s City stood a lowly cattle shed,

where a mother laid her baby.

You’d do well to remember the things He later said.

When you’re stuffing yourselves at the Christmas parties,

you’ll laugh when I tell you to take a running jump.

You’re missing the point I’m sure does not need making;

that Christmas spirit is not what you drink.

So how can you laugh when your own mother’s hungry

and how can you smile when the reasons for smiling are wrong?

And if I messed up your thoughtless pleasures,

remember, if you wish, this is just a Christmas song.

Hey, Santa… pass us that bottle, will you?

Jethro Tull …And The Mouse Police Never Sleeps

Muscled, black with steel-green eye

swishing through the rye grass

with thoughts of mouse-and-apple pie.

Tail balancing at half-mast.

…And the mouse police never sleeps —

lying in the cherry tree.

Savage bed foot-warmer of purest feline ancestry.

Look out, little furry folk!

He’s the all-night working cat.

Eats but one in every ten —

leaves the others on the mat.

…And the mouse police never sleeps —

waiting by the cellar door.

Window-box town crier;

birth and death registrar.

With claws that rake a furrow red —

licensed to multilate.

From warm milk on a lazy day

to dawn patrol on hungry hate.

…No, the mouse police never sleeps —

climbing on the ivy.

Windy roof-top weathercock.

Warm-blooded night on a cold tile.

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 4.W.D. (Low Ratio)

Met a man just the other day —

said his name was Jim. Boy, won’t you take a look!

Got a car for you — it’s a real steal

Cleaned it right down — new brakes, clutch and here’s the hook

Yes, it’s a 4.W.D. (low ratio)

Cash to Jim. I took it home

through the deep mud. Plugged happy as a boy in sand

Fitted wide tyres, spotlight, a winch as well

and some brush bars up front to complete the plan

Now it’s really a 4.W.D. (low ratio)

Take you down to the edge of town

Where the road stops, we start to hold the ground

Well, I’m blessed! Got traction in a special way

Hold the roll bar, slide back, feel me pull it round

Let me show you my 4.W.D. (low ratio)