Tytuł: Rock Island

• Wykonawca: Jethro Tull
• Wyświetleń: 194

Savage night on a misty island. Lights wink out in the
  canyon walls.
  Two old boys in a stolen racer. Black rubber contrails in
  the unwashed halls.
  And all roads out of here, seem to lead right back to the
  Rock Island.
  
  I've gone back to Paris, London, and even riding on a
  jumbo to Bombay.
  The long haul back holds faint attraction, but the people
  here know they're o.k.
  See the girl following the red balloon: walking all alone
  on her Rock Island.
  
  Doesn't everyone have their own Rock Island? Their own little
  patch of sand?
  Where the slow waves crawl and your angels fall and you find
  you can hardly stand.
  And just as you're drowning, well, the tide goes down.
  And you're back on your Rock Island.
  
  Hey there girlie with the torn dress, shaking: who was it
  touched you? Who was it ruined your day?
  Whose footprint calling card? And what they want, stepping
  on your beach anyway?
  I'll be your life raft out of here, but you'd only drift right
  back to your Rock Island.
  
  Hey, boy with the personal stereo: nothing `tween the ears
  but that hard rock sound.
  Playing to your empty room, empty guitar tune, No use waiting
  for that C.B.S. to come around.
  `Cos all roads out of here, seem to lead right back to your
  Rock Island.