Lyrics for singles by Jethro Tull
Too Old to Rock 'n' Roll: Too Young to Die
Locomotive Breath
Aqualung
Thick As A Brick
The old Rocker wore his hair too long
Wore his trouser cuffs too tight
Unfashionable to the end
Drank his ale too light
Death's head belt buckle
Yesterday's dreams
the transport caf' prophet of doom
Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams
in his post-war-babe gloom
Now he's too old to rock'n'roll
But he's too young to die
Yes he's too old to rock'n'roll
But he's too young to die
He once owned a Harley Davidson and a Triumph Bonneville
Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs
and prays that he always will
But he's the last of the blue bloods
greaser boys and all of his mates are doing time:
married with three kids
up by the ring road
sold their souls straight down the line
And some of them own little sports cars
and meet at the tennis club do's
For drinks on a Sunday
work on Monday
They've thrown away their blue suede shoes
Now they're too old to rock'n'roll
And they're too young to die
Yes they're too old to rock'n'roll
And they're too young to die
So the old Rocker gets out his bike
to make a ton before he takes his leave
Up on the A1
by Scotch Corner
just like it used to be
And as he flies
tears in his eyes
his wind-whipped words echo the final take
and he hits the trunk road
doing around a hundred and twenty
with no room left to brake
And he was too old to rock'n'roll
And he was too young to die
Oh he was too old to rock'n'roll
And he was too young to die
No, you are never too old to rock'n'roll if you're too young to die
No, you are never too old to rock'n'roll --- but he was too young to die
In the shuffling madess
of the locomotive breath,
runs the all-time loser,
headlong to his death
He feels the piston scraping --
steam breaking on his brow --
old Charlie stole the handle and
the train won't stop going --
no way to slow down
He sees his children jumping off
at the stations -- one by one
His woman and his best friend --
in bed and having fun
He's crawling down the corridor
on his hands and knees --
old Charlie stole the handle and
the train won't stop going --
no way to slow down
He hears the silence howling --
catches angels as they fall
And the all-time winner
has got him by the balls
He picks up Gideons Bible --
open at page one --
old Charlie stole the handle and
the train won't stop going --
no way to slow down
Sitting on a park bench --
eyeing ittle girls with bad intent
Snot running down his nose --
greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes
Drying in the cold sun --
Watching as the frilly panties run
Feeling like a dead duck --
spitting out pieces of his broken luck
Sun streaking cold --
an old man wandering lonely
Taking time
the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad,
as he bends to pick a dog-end --
he goes down to the bog
and warms his feet
Feeling alone --
the army's up the rode
salvation a la mode and
a cup of tea
Aqualung my friend --
don't start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me
Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze --
when the ice that
clings on to your beard is
screaming agony
And you snatch your rattling last breaths
with deep-sea-diver sounds,
and the flowers bloom like
madness in the spring
Bungle in the Jungle
Walking through forests of palm tree apartments ---
scoff at the monkeys who live in their dark tents
down by the waterhole --- drunk every Friday ---
eating their nuts --- saving their raisins for Sunday
Lions and tigers who wait in the shadows ---
they're fast but they're lazy, and sleep in green meadows
Let's bungle in the jungle --- well, that's all right by me
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree
Just say a word and the boys will be right there:
with claws at your back to send a chill through the night air
Is it so frightening to have me at your shoulder?
Thunder and lightning couldn't be bolder
I'll write on your tombstone, "I thank you for dinner"
This game that we animals play is a winner
Let's bungle in the jungle --- well, that's all right by me
I'm a tiger when I want love,
but I'm a snake if we disagree
The rivers are full of crocodile nasties
and He who made kittens put snakes in the grass
He's a lover of life but a player of pawns ---
yes, the King on His sunset lies waiting for dawn
to light up His Jungle
as play is resumed
The monkeys seem willing to strike up the tune
Really don't mind if you sit this one out
My words 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
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 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