From: lordyumyum@gmail.com   
      
   Tull -   
   "Thick As A Brick (Part 2)"   
      
   See there! A man 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   
      
   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 discoloured   
   In neat little rows sporting canvas frills   
   With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention   
   While queueing for sarnies at the office canteen   
   Saying - how's your granny 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, behind the gun   
   And signal for the crack of dawn. Light the sun. Light the sun   
      
   Do you believe in the day?   
   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? Believe in the day!   
   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?   
   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 father 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 his suit of armour   
   Or the wiser man who rushes clear   
      
   So! Come on ye childhood heroes!   
   Won't your 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 were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?   
   They're all resting down in Cornwall -   
   Writing up their memoirs for a paper-back 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   
   To be thick, ha, as a brick   
      
   --- SoupGate-Win32 v1.05   
    * Origin: you cannot sedate... all the things you hate (1:229/2)