Rock 'N' Lyrics

 The Fisherman Of Ephesus Jethro Tull Lyrics: [Acts 5:40-42]   Ten set out along the rocky road To suffer for their saintly sins The great betrayer gone missing Having topped himself or split his skin Now, the young beloved one Last son of father Zebedee Comes to the town of Ephesus To spin the lure and reel them in   Casts a line, sits waiting quietly For the telltale nibble to reveal The passing curiosity The inner need, the faint appeal Sings sweetly for his supper Sings of miracles and fairy tales Of barley loaves and two small fish Of barley loaves and two small fish To make, for multitudes, a meal   Fisherman of Ephesus Surveys the spirits' battleground Flag was flown, a story told Of crucifix and thorny crown Hard to go on living With the guilt of chance survival All alone to fall from sky Crash landing on arrival To walk again the rocky road No martyrdom to comfort Wait out the years to join the ten In fairytale revival   The test of Poison cup A little boiling oil alo

 Jacob's Ladder Jethro Tull Lyrics: [Genesis 25: 27 - 33]   Who cares about the family silver That glints in dusty halls Lined with badly painted landscapes On badly painted walls? Who cares for family favourites Dangling from the family tree? That Auntie Mabel loved you more Loved you, loved you more than me   We're not old fools of competition Jacob's tales or superstition But siblings born in equal grace Seated at set-table place   Same old chances, toss of dice: Evil eyes look twice as nice Blood runs thicker, blood runs cold; Seize legacy before it's sold   Who cares if I am comfortable In leafy rural lane While you are tied to drudgery Left staring at the rain That washes out your young ambition Hung out left to dry And wither on the washing line Washed out, washed-out butterfly ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Letra: [Génesis 25: 27 - 33]   A quien le importa la plata familiar Que brilla en pasillos polvorie

 Sad City Sisters Jethro Tull Lyrics: Hard to choose, to choose between them Tramps on a night out, out of season Bare legs and arms at the taxi stand Shoes in hand, cold kerb to freeze on   What desperation, what souls possessed With lonely demons are put to test? Why should we worry, why should we care That warrior horsemen shame, defile them? Why tip the cabbie, plus his fare?   So send them home to stumble in And toss their knickers in the bin Repentance looms then melts away Mocked by dark unearthly silence Replaced by incubus at play   Bad sisters stare, graffiti walls Stare in return when weekend calls The empty bragging, the empty lives In anguish echo through empty malls   What desperation, what souls possessed With lonely demons are put to test? Why should we worry, why should we care That warrior horsemen shame, defile them? The six-gun notches say it all   It was hard to choose, to choose between them Tramps o

 Shoshana Sleeping Jethro Tull Lyrics: Sleep: the time's not yet Early birds soon crowing Wake when dawn declares Woman risen from childish airs I watch, across the room Dancing shadow, torch outside Lights path down cobbled lane Which I have walked, will walk again   Sweet field lily, sweet Shoshana Names to conjure fragrant danger Fingers tremble, trace the line From nape to sacrum down the spine   Poisoned prize a trophy Freely taken, hardly won A minute, holds back hours Bud emboldened, forest flowers Moist under my hand She sleeps; breath comes quickly A sigh parts silky lips Soft-swell breasts, proud golden tips   Sweet field lily, sweet Shoshana Names to conjure fragrant danger My fingers tremble, trace the line From nape to sacrum down the spine   Sweet sadness fills my heart Offered chances best not taken Unsullied, no vain glory: Chapter, verse, another story Brushed eyelids gently closed Beauty fram

 My Sunday Feeling Jethro Tull Lyrics: My Sunday feeling is coming on over me. My Sunday feeling is coming on over me, Now that the night is over got to clear my head so I can see. Till I get to put together, that old feeling won't let me be.   Won't somebody tell me where I laid my head last night? Won't somebody tell me where I laid my head last night? I really don't remember, but with one more cigarette and I think I might. Till I get to put together, well that old feeling can't get me right.   Need some assistance; have you listened to what I said? Need some assistance; have you listened to what I said? Oh, I don't feel so good. Need someone to help me to my bed. Till I get to put together, that old feeling is in my head. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Letra: Mi estado de ánimo del domingo se está desvaneciendo. Mi estado de ánimo del domingo se está des

 Locomotive Breath Jethro Tull Lyrics: In the Shuffling madness of the locomotive breath, runs the all time loser, headlong to his death. He feels the piston scraping steam breaking on his brow old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going no way to slow down. He sees his children jumping off at stations one by one. His woman and his best friend in bed and having fun. Crawling down the corridor on his hands and knees old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going no way to slow down. He hears the silence howling catches angels as they fall. And the all time winner has got him by the balls. He picks up Gideon's Bible open at page one old Charlie stole the handle and the train won't stop going no way to slow down. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Letra: En la evasiva locura del respiro lomocotivo, corre el tipo más perdedor de todos los tiempos temerar

 Hymn 43 Jethro Tull Lyrics: Oh father high in heaven smile down upon your son whose busy with his money games his women and his gun. And the unsung Western Hero killed an indian or three and made his name in Hollywood to set the white man free. If Jesus saves, well he'd better save himself from the gory glory seekers who use his name in death. I saw him in the city and on the mountains of the moon his cross was rather bloody He could hardly roll his stone. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------  Letra: Padre nuestro que estás en los cielos sonríe a tu hijo que está ocupado con sus juegos monetarios, sus mujeres y su pistola. Y el héroe desconocido del Oeste mató a uno o a tres indios y se hizo famoso en Hollywood para liberar al hombre blanco. Si Jesús nos salva, bueno, debería salvarse de los ensangrentados buscadores de gloria que usan su nombre en la muerte. Lo vi en la ciudad y en las montañas de