General Crossing Lyrics - Under Wraps - Jethro Tull

It's an old profession 

of subtle artillery. 

Rough wheels meshing --- 

button out, button in. 

The tall General will mine 

a few bridges tonight, 

stroking soft machinery. 

Fanfare at dawn 

courting green steel 

lined up for World War One 

(Two, Three, Four). 

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It's an old profession 

of subtle artillery. 

Rough wheels meshing --- 

on a landscape with no trees. 

The tall General points 

to the distance --- 

disconnects his power supply. 

Writes a stiff note to his nearest 

and dearest --- 

he takes the battle plan 

and contemplates his fly. 

Photos 

The tall General 

flies by the seat of history. 

The tall General 

is crossing. 

The tall General 

he thinks inevitability. 

The tall General 

is definitely crossing. 

With spit and with polish --- 

time for desperate measures. 

The pain in the forehead 

from holding up to the pressures 

of life on the rim 

of the convenient alliance. 

Out on the rim --- 

let me out on the rim. 

The tall General will walk 

across the compound 

with his briefcase and I.D. 

Later they'll post him 

seemingly missing --- 

he's gone to be a Generalski.