Tytuł: From A Dead Beat To An Old Greaser

• Wykonawca: Jethro Tull
• Wyświetleń: 195

From a dead beat to an old greaser, here's thinking of you.
  You won't remember the long nights;
  coffee bars; black tights and white thighs
  in shop windows where blonde assistants fully-fashioned a world made
  of dummies (with no mummies or daddies to reject them).
  When bombs were banned every Sunday and the Shadows played F.B.I.
  And tired young sax-players sold their instruments of torture ---
  sat in the station sharing wet dreams of Charlie Parker,
  Jack Kerouac, Ren'e Magritte, to name a few of the heroes
  who were too wise for their own good --- left the young brood to
  go on living without them.
  
  Old queers with young faces --- who remember your name,
  though you're a dead beat with tired feet;
  two ends that don't meet.
  To a dead beat from an old greaser.
  
  Think you must have me all wrong.
  I didn't care, friend. I wasn't there, friend,
  If it's the price of pint that you need, ask me again.