Thick As A Brick (part 1) Lyrics - Thick As A Brick (40th Anniversary Special Edition) - Jethro Tull

Really don't mind if you sit this one out 

My word's but a whisper, your deafness a SHOUT 

I may make you feel, but I can't make you think 

Your sperm's in the gutter, your love's in the sink 

So you ride yourselves over the fields 

And you make all your animal deals 

And your wise men don't know how it feels 

To be thick as a brick 

And the sand castle virtues are all swept away 

In the tidal destruction, the moral melee 

The elastic retreat rings the close of play 

As the last wave uncovers the newfangled way 

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But your new shoes are worn at the heels 

And your suntan does rapidly peel 

And your wise men don't know how it feels 

To be thick as a brick 

And the love that I feel is so far away 

I'm a bad dream that I just had today 

And you shake your head 

And say that it's a shame 

Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth 

Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth 

Spin me down the long ages, let them sing the song 

See there, a son is born 

And we pronounce him fit to fight 

There are blackheads on his shoulders, And there he pees himself in the night 

We'll make a man of him, put him to a trade 

Teach him to play Monopoly, and how to sing in the rain 

Photos 

The poet and the painter casting shadows on the water 

As the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea 

The doer and the thinker, no allowance for the other 

As the failing light illuminates the mercenary's creed 

The home fire burning, the kettle almost boiling 

But the master of the house is far away 

The horses stamping, their warm breath clouding 

In the sharp and frosty morning of the day 

And the poet lifts his pen, while the soldier sheaths his sword 

And the youngest of the family is moving with authority 

Building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide 

To wash them all aside 

The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river 

Where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea 

The builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose 

And contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need 

The young men of the household have all gone into service 

And are not to be expected for a year 

The innocent young master, thoughts moving ever faster 

Has formed the plan to change the man he seems 

And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword 

And the oldest of the family is moving with authority 

Coming from across the sea, he challenges the son 

Who puts him to the run 

What do you do when the old man's gone? 

Do you want to be him? 

And your real self sings the song 

Do you want to free him? 

No one to help you get up steam 

And the whirlpool turns you way off beam 

I've come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways 

My father was a man of power, whom everyone obeyed 

So come on all you criminals! I've got to put you straight 

Just like I did with my old man, twenty years too late 

Your bread and water's going cold, your hair is short and neat 

I'll judge you all and make damn sure that no one judges me 

You curl your toes in fun, as you smile at everyone 

You meet the stares, you're unaware that your doings aren't done 

And you laugh most ruthlessly, as you tell us what not to be 

But how are we supposed to see where we should run? 

I see you shuffle in the courtroom, with your rings upon your fingers 

And your downy little sidies and your silver-buckle shoes 

Playing at the hard case, you follow the example 

Of the comic-paper idol, who lets you bend the rules 

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 

You put your bet on number one and it comes up every time 

The other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line 

And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are 

And you take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars 

(And you wonder who to call on ...) 

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