(Ian Anderson Solo Album)
Introduction Site Map Site Search TullSongs TullAlbums TullScapes
TullBooks TullUnreleased TullClips TullLinks TullResources About & Awards
It's hard to say I'm sorry. May we just forget about today.You see, I fly by night. I fly by night. I laid my love beside the door and left you sleeping on the floor. So long. I fly by night, I fly by night. I fly by night. I fly by night.And though you might think it's too bad of me I have to leave you with used memories. I have no stomach for the dawn. I feel I should be moving on and so I fly by night. Now lady luck's deserted me. The ghosts of love stand clear to see. They also fly by night. They fly by night. Strange figures in the dark. Did Cupid strike and leave his mark? It seems his arrows fly by night.They fly by night. Fly! Let's fly. Let's fly by night. Let's fly by night. Let's fly by night.Somewhere in a town in England lay a babe with a curious smile. He was of your father's children. Born each side of a dry-stone mile. He grew up through the schools and factories, Brunel's tunnels and bridges bold. Grey towers built high on that Kingdom with apartments still unsold. Somewhere in a town in England. Could be Newcastle, Leeds or Birmingham. And were you made in England's green and pleasant land? He accepts no unemployment and is to indeterminate station bred. Is possessed of skills and reason. Flies the flag upon his head. Somewhere in a town in England. Could be Newcastle, Leeds or Birmingham. And were you made in England's green and pleasant land? Watches the democratic process grind it's way through the Commons cold, filled with fiery infiltrators who would pave the streets with England's gold. Somewhere in a town in England. Could be Newcastle, Leeds or Birmingham. And were you made in England's green and pleasant land? Somewhere in a town in England, oh England. Somewhere in a town in England, oh England. Oh, England.Close in, move out to where you want to go. There's a crowd out there handclapping slow. We're all powered up, switched on, the rig is tight. Step into joy. Walk into light. Never mind what some people say. They're going to love you anyway. Shake off that nervous twitch and feel your strength. Stand astride the width and walk the length. Those super-troopers fired and burning bright. Step into joy. Walk into light. Stand tall and be yourself. You can do it for your health. Never mind what some people say. They're going to love you anyway.Maybe a circus ring, a disco floor. Do like we do. And do some more. A crowded office or a party night. Step into joy. Walk into light.Here I am at the end of the day with a cup of cold coffee from the station buffet. On trains, on trains I seem to spend my life on trains. See the blue suit banker in the ticket line. Got an Evening Standard with Playboy hidden behind. On trains, on trains he seems to spend his life on trains.Time after time. Was I just dreaming? Did I help you aboard? Full passenger service let me help with the door. Sit down take the weight off your feet. There's a train full of people I'd like you to meet. On trains, on trains we love to spend our lives on trains. Join the secret world of trains. Feel the pleasure. Touch the pain. Drift into yesterday. Once and again I was just thinking.We could meet sometime on the 17.30 where I usually find my friends at the end of the day. May we pay your fare, lady? We should like you to stay in our train. On trains you'll have to spend your life on trains. I hear there's an office party on the 18.05. You'll be home for Christmas if they take you alive from the train. Those trains, we have to spend our lives on trains. Once and again I was just thinking. We could meet any time on number two platform where I usually find my friends at the end of the day. On trains, trains, trains.I'm slipping into grey. And I was (in my way) good to you. And you were good for me. Bye bye my love. Going to play the end game. It's growing kind of still. You know there always will be a dream waiting for you when sleep comes around. I had to play the end game. Bless us all. I must say, it was good, you know. Keep me in mind for a re-match in warm snow. The faces at the door couldn't have looked more lost to see me waving as I brush away a tear. Gone to play the end game. Bless us all. I must say, it was good, you know. Keep me in mind for a re-match in warm snow. End game. End game. End game. End game. End game. End game.I looked in the mirror then saw my face in a dream. With eyes sharp as diamonds blessed with clear vision. Things were not as they seemed. Black and white television stared back from the wall. Is that my life? Am I here at all? Down in the High Road, see motor cavalcades glide past shopwindow dressers desperately covering all the parts they can hide. Black and white television stares at me again. Is that their lives? Even dummies pretend. The truth is so hard to deny. The answer is here. The screen never lies. Black and white television. Black and white television. Black and white television. It's the right television. Show me it's all a dream tonight. The boys on the corner sulk in their Suzuki haze. In primary colours (each year more startling) but they still fade to grey on black and white television. It's sweeping the land. Is that your life? Do you understand? The truth is so hard to deny. The answer is here. The screen never lies. Black and white television. Back the right television. Black and white television. Hard to fight television. Show me it's all a dream tonight. Black and white television.(The back door's open.)I walk along the Strand to catch the late ride home. Shuttle through the evening gloom knowing I forgot to phone. The back door's open. There's a chill blowing in. Take your warm hands off me. Let the night begin. Shush your mouth. Listen to me. I won't say nothing just let me be your toad in the hole. Kicking through the wet leaves lying all along the Station Road. Past tired graffitti wailing, raw emotion to unload. There's coal in the fireplace and money in the bank too. Deep-pile carpets, tinsel wallpaper. Still got the back room to do. But don't be late. Got a day's work behind me. Feel a little devastated but my nights are assigned to you. Toad in the hole. No tom-cat creeping, now could ever be so bold to hang around our place tonight when I come in from the cold. There's a straight-six in the garage and some fine wine to cool. Labour-savers in the kitchen, room in the garden for a pool. Shush your mouth. Let imagination run here in bed-sit heaven where all the best wishing's done to warm toad in the hole. Toad in a hole. Toad in a hole.As I drove down the road to look for Eden saw two young girls but left them standing there. They were too late to get home on the underground and probably too drunk, too drunk to care. Can anyone tell me the way to Eden? I'll ask them there, have they a job for me. I'm not a fussy man, I can weed and hoe. I'll be her Adam, she can be my Eve. And where on earth are all those songs of Eden. The fairy tales, the shepherds and wise men. Just one old dosser lurching down Oxford Street to spend his Christmas lying in the rain. Don't anybody know the way to Eden. I'm tired of living my life in free-fall. They say it's somewhere out on the edge of town. Perhaps it isn't really there at all. Looking for Eden.Do we inhabit some micro-space and interface through wires. Dance on a printed circuit board throw the software to the fires. My memory's slim so volatile but I'm learning. Plug yourself in. Stay for awhile. Un-discerning. And on dusty terminals finger me lightly do. And QWERTY is the name of love printed on the V.D.U. Cut yourself free. We're all alone communicating. Don't bother me with arithmetic. I'm waiting. User-friendly. That's what I am to you. User-friendly. That's what I am to you, to you. I have to break out of here. Trapped in my hardware cell. And come to you as you sleep tonight, take you back into my hell. Binary joys and digital sighs so appealing. I'm one of the boys and it's only your mind that I'm stealing. User-friendly. That's all I am to you, to you. User-friendly. That's all I am to you, to you. User-friendly.The lights are down in Germany and Germany is closed to me different somehow this time. The airport's stiff, cold corridors ring empty beats through hollow feet that I find to be mine. Different Germany. History repeats somehow. Different Germany. Afraid to know you now. And past my eyes with leathered gaze stare clean-cut boys all dressed as men in sharpened uniform. Who turned the clock? (Moved on or back) And what dark chill is gathering still before the storm. Different Germany. History repeats somehow. Different Germany. Afraid to know you now. Out in the street a tableau double-glazed with laughing girls whose fastened smiles are clearly not meant for me. Different Germany. History repeats somehow. Different Germany. Afraid to know you now. The lights are down in Germany and Germany is closed to me different somehow this time.
Lyrics: © Chrysalis Records Ltd., London, UK, 1983 - All Rights
The Broadsword And The Beast