Album  by:  Thick  As  A  Brick

Artist  by:  Jethro  Tull

Really  dont  mind  if  you  sit  this  one  out.

My  words  but  a  whisper  --  your  deafness  a  shout.

I  may  make  you  feel  but  I  cant  make  you  think.

Your  sperms  in  the  gutter  --  your  loves  in  the  sink.

So  you  ride  yourselves  over  the  fields  and

You  make  all  your  animal  deals  and

Your  wise  men  dont  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.

But  your  new  shoes  are  worn  at  the  heels  and

Your  suntan  does  rapidly  peel  and

Your  wise  men  dont  know  how  it  feels  to  be  thick  as  a  brick.

And  the  love  that  I  feel  is  so  far  away:

Im  a  bad  dream  that  I  just  had  today  --  and  you

Shake  your  head  and

Say  its  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  black-heads  on  his  shoulders,  and  he  pees  himself  in  the  night.

Well

Make  a  man  of  him

Put  him  to  trade

Teach  him

To  play  monopoly  and

To  sing  in  the  rain.

The  poet  and  the  painter  casting  shadows  on  the  water  --

As  the  sun  plays  on  the  infantry  returning  from  the  sea.

The  do-er  and  the  thinker:  no  allowance  for  the  other  --

As  the  failing  light  illuminates  the  mercenarys  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  mans  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.

Later.

Ive  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!

Ive  got  to  put  you  straight  just  like  I  did  with  my  old  man  --

Twenty  years  too  late.

Your  bread  and  waters  going  cold.

Your  hair  is  too  short  and  neat.

Ill  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.

Youre  unaware  that  your  doings  arent  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  ye  childhood  heroes!

Wont  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.  wont  you?

Join  your  local  government.

Well  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  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  were  all  the  sportsmen  who  always  pulled  you  though?

Theyre  all  resting  down  in  cornwall  --

Writing  up  their  memoirs  for  a  paper-back  edition

Of  the  boy  scout  manual.

Later.

See  there!  a  man  born  --  and  we  pronounce  him  fit  for  peace.

Theres  a  load  lifted  from  his  shoulders  with  the  discovery  of  his  disease.

Well

Take  the  child  from  him

Put  it  to  the  test

Teach  it

To  be  a  wise  man

How  to  fool  the  rest.

Quote

We  will  be  geared  to  the  average  rather  than  the  exceptional

God  is  an  overwhelming  responsibility

We  walked  through  the  maternity  ward  and  saw  218  babies  wearing  nylons

Cats  are  on  the  upgrade

Upgrade?    hipgrave.  oh,  mac.

Later

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  --  hows  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  seagulls  call.

And  all  the  promises  they  made  are  ground  beneath  the  sadists  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?    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  poets  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  ar  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  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!

Wont  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.

Wont  you?    join  your  local  government.

Well  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?

Theyre  all  resting  down  in  cornwall  --  writing  up  their  memoirs

For  a  paper-back  edition  of  the  boy  scout  manual.

Of  course

So  you  ride  yourselves  over  the  fields  and

You  make  all  your  animal  deals  and

Your  wise  men  dont  know  how  it  feels  to  be  thick  as  a  brick.