Thick as a Brick (Part 2) Songtext
von Jethro Tull

See there! A man is 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 a child from him
Put it to the test
Teach it to be a wise man
And how to fool the rest

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
It says here that cats are on the upgrade
Upgrade? Hipgrave
Oh, Mac


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 queuing 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
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, has begun
Soft Venus, lonely maiden brings
The ageless one, the ageless one

Do you believe in the day?
Do you believe in the day?


The fading hero has returned
To the night, 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
Well, 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 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
Well, 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 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

So! Where the hell was Biggles
When you needed him last Saturday?
And where were all the sportsmen
Who always pulled you though?
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 as a brick