jueves, 12 de marzo de 2009

JETHRO TULL: A Passion Play (1973)


  1. Lifebeats
  2. Prelude
  3. The Silver Cord
  4. Re-Assuring Tune
  5. Memory Bank
  6. Best Friends
  7. Critique Oblique
  8. Forest Dance #1
  9. The Story of the Hare Who Lost His Spectacles
  10. Forest Dance #2
  11. The Foot of Our Stairs
  12. Overseer Overture
  13. Flight from Lucifer
  14. 10.08 to Paddington
  15. Magus Perdé
  16. Epilogue
LIFEBEATS
(Instrumental)

PRELUDE
(Instrumental)

THE SILVER CORD
"Do you still see me even here?"
(The silver cord lies on the ground.)
"And so I'm dead", the young man said
over the hill (not a wish away).
My friends (as one) all stand aligned
although their taxis came too late.
There was / a rush along the Fulham Road.
There was / a hush in the Passion Play.

Such a sense of glowing in the aftermath
ripe with rich attainments all imagined
sad misdeeds in disarray
the sore thumb screams aloud,
echoing out of the Passion Play.
All the old familiar choruses come crowding in a different key...
Melodies decaying in sweet dissonance.
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

And who comes here to wish me well?
A sweetly-scented angel fell.
She laid her head upon my disbelief
and bathed me with her ever-smile.
And with a howl across the sand
I go escorted by a band of gentlemen in leather bound
NO-ONE (but someone to be found).

RE-ASSURING TUNE
(Instrumental)

MEMORY BANK
All along the icy wastes there are faces smiling in the gloom.
Roll up roll down, Feeling unwound? Step into the viewing room.
The cameras were all around.We've got you taped you're in the play.

Here's your I.D. (Ideal for identifying one and all.)
Invest your life in the memory bank ours
the interest and we thank you.
The ice-cream lady wets her drawers, to see you in the passion play.
Take the prize for instant pleasure, captain of the cricket team
public speaking in all weathers, a knighthood from a queen.

BEST FRIENDS
All your best friends' telephones never
cooled from the heat of your hand.
There's a line in a front-page story, 13 horses that also-ran.
Climb in your old umbrella. Does it have a nasty tear in the dome?
But the rain only gets in sometimes and
the sun never leaves you alone,
you alone, you alone, you alone, you alone, you alone.

CRITIQUE OBLIQUE
Critic of the black and white it's your first night.
The Passion Play gets in the way - spoils your insight.
Tell me how the baby's made, how the lady's laid,
Why the old dogs howl with sadness.

(Spoken:)The blue thing in the ball leaves naught but a bloody footprint on the memory
of last summer's trip to Europe.

Did you buy a passport from the queen?

(Spoken:) And your little sister's immaculate virginity wings away on the bony shoulder
of a young horse named George who stole surreptitiously into her geography
revision.
The examining body examined her body.

FOREST DANCE #1
(Instrumental)

THE STORY OF THE HARE WHO LOST HIS SPECTACLES
[Spoken:]
This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.

Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was
watching. Sitting on a fence one day,
he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo
ran close by. Now this may not
seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in
particular, "The hare has lost his
spectacles," well, he began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a
cloud and there, lying on the grass
was hare. In the stream that flowed by the
grass a newt. And sitting astride a
twig of a bush a bee. Ostensibly
motionless, the hare was trembling with
excitement, for without his spectacles he was
completely helpless. Where were
his spectacles? Could someone have stolen
them? Had he mislaid them? What
was he to do? Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
"You probably ate them thinking they were a
carrot." "No!" interrupted Owl,
who was wise. "I have good eye-sight,
insight, and foresight. How could an
intelligent hare make such a silly
mistake?" But all this time, Owl had been
sitting on the fence, scowling! Kangaroo were
hopping mad at this sort of talk.
She thought herself far superior in intelligence to
the others. She was their leader,
their guru. She had the answer: "Hare, you must
go in search of the optician."
But then she realized that Hare was completely
helpless without his spectacles.
And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, "I can't
send Hare in search of anything!"
"You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt.
"You can send him with Owl." But Owl
had gone to sleep. Newt knew too much to be
stopped by so small a problem
"You can take him in your pouch." But
alas, Hare was much too big to fit into
Kangaroo's pouch. All this time, it had been
quite plain to hare that the others
knew nothing about spectacles.
[Sung:] As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare
didn't care. The lost spectacles were
his own affair. And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

FOREST DANCE #2
(Instrumental)

THE FOOT OF OUR STAIRS
We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door,
eat in the corner, talk to the floor,
cheating the spiders who come to say "Please",
(politely). They bend at the knees.
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
of ladies lost and erring sons.
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
pure as the truth, tied at both ends.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Scented cathedral spire pointed down.
We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
A delicate hush the gods, floating by
wishing us well, pie in the sky.
God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right to be wrong.
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed
of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).
Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."

Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done,
I've put in a request to take up my turn
in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
where no-one has nothing and nothing is well meaning fool,
pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.

OVERSEER OVERTURE
Colours I've none, dark or light, red, white or blue.
Cold is my touch (freezing).

Summoned by name - I am the overseer over you.
Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain.
Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
Fell with mine angels from a far better place,
offering services for the saving of face.
Now you're here, you may as well admire
all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation.
Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights
seen in the sky (flashing).
I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye.
Passionate play join round the maypole in dance
(primitive rite) (wrongly).
Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.

FLIGHT FROM LUCIFER
Flee the icy Lucifer. Oh he's an awful fellow!
What a mistake! I didn't take a feather from his pillow.
Here's the everlasting rub... neither am I good or bad.
I'd give up my halo for a horn and the horn for the hat I once had.
I'm only breathing. There's life on my ceiling.
The flies there are sleeping quietly.
Twist my right arm in the dark.
I would give two or three for
one of those days that never made
impressions on the old score.
I would gladly be a dog barking up the wrong tree.
Everyone's saved we're in the grave.
See you there for afternoon tea.
Time for awaking the tea lady's making
a brew-up and baking new bread.
Pick me up at half past none
there's not a moment to lose.
There is the train on which I came.
On the platform are my old shoes.
Station master rings his bell.
Whistles blow and flags wave.
A little of what you fancy does you good (Or so it should).
I thank everybody
for making me welcome.
I'd stay but my wings have just dropped off

10.08 TO PADDINGTON
(Instrumental)

MAGUS PERDE
Hail! Son of kings make the ever-dying sign
cross your fingers in the sky for those about to BE.
There am I waiting along the sand.
Cast your sweet spell upon the land and sea.
Magus Perde, take your hand from off the chain.
Loose a wish to still, the rain, the storm about to BE.
Here am I (voyager into life).
Tough are the soles that tread the knife's edge.
Break the circle,stretch the line, call upon the devil.
Bring the gods, the gods' own fire
In the conflict revel.
The passengers upon the ferry crossing, waiting to be born,
renew the pledge of life's long song rise to the reveille horn.
Animals queueing at the gate that stands upon the shore
breathe the ever-burning fire that guards the ever-door.

Man - son of man - buy the flame of ever-life
(yours to breathe and breath the pain of living)... living BE!
Here am I! Roll the stone away
from the dark into ever-day.

EPILOGUE
There was a rush along the Fulham Road
into the Ever-passion Play.

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