JETHRO TULL

1. Lap Of Luxury

---

The money won't last forever ---

rent man called twice today.
I hope some day you'll find me

in the lap of luxury.

Searched for a new apartment

but they don't grow on trees.
Just want to lay my head

in the lap of luxury.

Stepped out on a new horizon ---

felt a new spring in my feet.
Found a job, it could set me up

dangling in the lap of luxury.

And the gaffer is a man of substance ---

drives a jag and takes high tea.
Lives beyond the industrial wasteland,

laughing in the lap of luxury.

I need money, now, to soothe my heart!

Buy me a Datsun or Toyota ---

get the tax man to agree

all expenses I can muster

from the lap of luxury.

2. Under Wraps # 1

---

Keep it quiet. (Go slow.)
Circulate. Need to know.
Stamp the date upon your file ---

masquerade, but well worth while.

Wrapped in the warmth of you ---

wrapped up in your smile.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.

Wear an air --- (keep mum)

of casual indifference.
Careful how you go

about your usual business.

Wrapped in daydreams of you ---

wrapped up by your eyes.
Wrapped in the folds of your attention.
Under wraps! I've got you under wraps.

Tell you when --- (not yet)

soon the great unveiling.
Bless my boots! Upon my soul!
Secrecy, it is my failing.

Wrapped in your Summer night ---

wrapped in your Autumn leaves.
Wrapped in the Winter of your sleeping.

3. European Legacy

---

She smiles at me

from beyond the eastern sea-shore.
Flashing jewelled eyes,

she hoists her skirts so high.
Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar ---

it's really up to her.
I'll write every cheque she brings to me.
I shoot on sight ---

it's my European legacy.

Round the castle walls ---

about the Highlands and the Islands

the faint reminders stand.
Visitors who took a hand

a thousand years ago, or so ---

stranded high and dry by tides ---

washed up a new identity.
The channel's wide ---

but it's their European legacy.

I strain my eyes

against the southern light advancing.
On whiter cliffs I'm high.
The sea birds roll and tumble as they fly.
I hear distant mainland music echo

in my island ears.
My feet begin to move instinctively

to the warmer beat of my European legacy.

She smiles at me

from beyond the eastern sea-shore.
Flashing jewelled eyes,

she hoists her skirts so high.
Nouvelle cuisine or an oyster bar ---

it's really up to her.
I'll write every cheque she brings to me.
She shoots on sight ---

it's her European legacy.

4. Later That Same Evening

---

Later, that same evening, she ran.
I think she ran alone.
Later, she had early warning from

a hidden phone.
Checked with the embassy ---

she might have been

a million miles away.
Should I circulate her likeness

at all airports without delay?
It was later ---

later that same evening.

Earlier, we had had a drink or four

in some Kensington hotel.
Hard --- it was hard to keep my mind

on what she had to sell.
And with all business done

we took a cab ---

should it be her place or mine?
Good security prevailed

and I was home just after nine.
It was later ---

later that same evening.

Now I want you back.
Yes, they want you back.
We want you back.
My country wants you back.

Later, in the wee small hours

there was heavy traffic on the radio.
Scare at a channel port ---

small craft warnings to keep to shore.
Lobstermen thought they saw

a submarine

half submerged suspiciously.
Though I arrived too late,

I'm sure she blew a kiss to me

as the sub sailed out to sea.

5. Saboteur

---

In and out of shady places ---

walking on cold corners of the maze.
Following the trace you leave unwittingly.
I wanna be no Saboteur.
Oh, no, me no Saboteur.

Painted ducks across your landscape ---

happy in your domesticity (it don't come free).
Misfortune, like a Sparrow Hawk, hangs over you.
Wanna be no Saboteur.
No, no, me no Saboteur.

Deepest regrets I humbly offer you

as I cut into your life.
With clean precision, all is simplified ---

pass the hat and pass the knife.

By now you must be worried, wondering

who is me and what lies behind my art.
I'm only removing broken sea-shells from the beach --- oh, no, me no Saboteur.

There's at least one of me inside your ranks

in your factory or school.
I anticipate a cleansing opportunity

to take the horns by the bull.

History forever writing

pages to be cut or painted grey,

or celebrated like Jesus in his

temple rage

as he chased the money-men away.

I wanna be no Saboteur.
Be no, be no Saboteur.

6. Radio Free Moscow

---

Tune into messages

from the Eastern avenue.
Lock on to the ether ---

squeeze the signal through and through.
War of the air-waves

making scare-waves.
I'm getting pictures

from my radio (Free Moscow).
Moscow Radio.

Voice of America ---

symbol of the free.
Mine of disinformation

pleading sympathy.
Down in the cold-war games

forever naming names.
I'm getting pictures

from my radio (Free Moscow).
Keep getting pictures

from my radio (Free Moscow).

I put my headphones on ---

reach out on the beam.
Shutter up the windows ---

I'm getting up some steam.
Somebody's at the door

catching me in the act ---

they've been keeping the score.
I'm getting pictures

from my radio (Free Moscow).
Yes, I'm getting pictures

from my radio (Free Moscow).

7. Astronomy

---

The middle lane has trapped my car

in red-light claustrophobia.
I slip the shackles, cut the rope ---

stand naked with a telescope

as the cat walks alone

under a big sky.
Against the dark so thin and white ---

gonna be a big sky night.

Miss Galileo, come with me

and view the new Astronomy.
Black hole dressing on salad plate ---

quasar at the kissing gate.
Now the cat, he walks alone

under a big sky.
Umbrella dome pin-pricked in lights ---

gonna be a big sky night.

My spectacles, my white lab coat ---

my coffee, thermos and my notes.
I pat my pockets. I got the keys

to the secrets of the observatory.
And closing the door,

I feel a new dawn

as the darker slides align ---

you to yours and me to mine.

And now you stand, assisting me ---

I can touch what I can see, see, see.
I look in wonder, I feel no shame ---

see the consequences of the game.
Expand the universe.
Head for the Big Bang.
Reach for my switch and shout ---

gonna turn the big sky out.

There's got to be astronomy.
Astronomy.

8. Tundra

---

Short Arctic desert day ---

and someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Look around every which way

but I can't see just where the footprints go.
Is it a casual disappearance? ---

Plucked from the middle atmosphere

like straw wind-blown.
No speck on the horizon ---

no simple message scrawled

upon the snow.

Unearthly visitation ---

someone left their snow-shoes in the tundra.
Hungry buzzard flier

circling round and round

rattling death's tambourine.

Have to run it down the cold wire ---

late insertion in tomorrow's lost and found.
Should I spread out searching?

But I'm a little thin upon the ground.

So I raise my lips to coax

the last drop of brandy from the bottle.
Rest my feet and contemplate

the mystery that's haunting

this Siberian space.

Show-shoes they bind me down ---

I'm just one more parasite of the surface layer.
I begin to get the feeling

I've been on this stage before

and I'm the only player.

One more Arctic desert day ---

another set of shoes out in the tundra snow.
I make my fade to white-out

and you can't see me where my footprints go.

9. Nobody's Car

---

Black Volga following me ---

Nobody's car.
Mr. No-one at the wheel of

Nobody's car.
Wet pavements, thin apartments ---

quiet dissent from darkened doorways.

want out alive.
Speak up for me if you can.
So, careful how you drive

in tourist city.

Slap in front of my hotel ---
it's Nobody's car.
Is that my limousine?
No, it's Nobody's car.
Are you on routine assignment?
Plastic shades on black-browed eye-hole.
I read this book before.
I even saw the film.
How did the ending go?

( Intourist city. )

Black out.

It's a weird scenario.

I've seen a thousand times before

but only on my video.

Feel my steps quick in the headlights

of Nobody's car.
Down cobbled alley with no exit from

Nobody's car.
Doors slam, two figures silhouette ---

somewhere before, I feel we've met.
Can't tell you any more.
I agreed to go along with all they asked of me.
Intourist city.
I drive Nobody's car.

10. Heat

---

When the rats are running

and the boys are gunning

for heads on a tin plate ---

you can hear the footfall

softly in the back yard.
And the black jack is called

face up on the last card.

You'd better call your witness

in your dirty business.
Trop tard sera le cri.
Better run while you can ---

better set the tall sail.
Better make deep cover

before the boys have you nailed.

There's just one chance to get away ---

I'll catch up with you another day.
I'll close my eyes and count to ten

and come right after you again.

Grab your credit cards ---

cash in on your resources.
Take your passport from the drawer,

don't stop to change the horses.

Get out of the heat.

Now can you feel the pressure?
Have you got the measure

of being a wanted man?
Cold drink in your hand ---

hot sweat on your brow.
And there's no understanding

going to help you now.

Grab your credit cards ---

cash in on your resources.
Take your passport from the drawer,

don't stop to change the horses.
Notify all parties

of an earlier vacation.
No use trying to board the train

after it's left the station.

Get out of the heat.

11. Under Wraps # 2

---

( instrumental )

12. Paparazzi

---

Paparazzi, can't make the man.
Paparazzi, can't break the man.

Next to the transit lounge

see the Paparazzi tears.
No-one came in today

from Boston or Tangiers.
And in departures ---

only faceless trippers trip,

loaded with duty free

held in white knuckle grip.

Snap it up, flash away ---

steal a camel for a day.
Break the story in heavy type ---

the news is running late tonight.

Be-decked with Nikon necklaces

hear the Paparazzi cries.
Under their noses walk

the famous in disguise.
Conspicuously huddled there

but no-one stops to look.
They've got their crayons out

to colour in the book.

Snap it up, flash away ---

steal a camel for a day.
Break the story in heavy type ---

Paparazzi won't be home tonight.

Paparazzi --- write it down.
Paparazzi --- turn it around.
Paparazzi --- take it, fake it,

break it.

`Cos it's a story.
Now someone's cut the lines

communication's down.
All photo film is fogged.
Celebrities surround

and jab their fingers at me.
They kiss but I can't tell.
Even poor Paparazzi

must have privacy as well.

Snap it up, flash away ---

steal a camel for a day.
Break the story in heavy type ---

the news is running late tonight.

Snap it up, flash away ---

steal a camel for a day.
Break the story in heavy type ---

Paparazzi won't be home tonight.

13. Apogee

---

Sailing round the true-blue sphere---

is it too late to bale out of here?
Well, there has to be some better way

to turn back the night,

spin on to yesterday.

The old man and his crew---

after all these years,

it's apogee.
Pilot training and remorse---

spirit friends fly too,

at apogee.
Apogee --- solar bright.
Apogee --- through the night.
Apogee --- overground.
Don't think I'll be coming down.

Screened for a stable mate

with nerves of ice we flew,

at apogee.
No creativity allowed

to pass through stainless veins of steel,

at apogee.
Apogee --- put the kettle on.
Tight-lipped --- soldier on.
High point --- communicate.
Don't forget to urinate.
br>So glad they put this window in.
How to explain, how to begin?
See ! Tennyson and Wordsworth there

waiting for me in the cold, thin air.

Beware a host of unearthly daffodils

drifting golden, turned up loud.
Tell the boys back home,

I'm gonna get some.

The Wrong Stuff's loose in here ---

I'm climbing up the walls,

at apogee.
So hoist the skull and bones ---

death and glory's free,

at apogee.

A stranger wind, a solar breeze ---

I'm walking out upon the starry seas.
See pyramids, see standing stones ---

pink cotton undies and blue telephones.

Goodbye, cruel world that was my home ---

there's a cleaner space out there to roam.
Put my feet up on the moons of Mars ---

sit back, relax and count the stars.

14. Automotive Engineering

---

In the hands of science ---

the complete appliance.
We're moved to motor.
Do you fly a Spitfire?
Do you slide on a tea-tray?
Or walk on a short trip (Sundays).
Or drive come what may (enjoy).

Automotive science and engineering.

When big was better ---

and fast was chic,

the oil was cheaper ---

now we're up the creek.
But the Japs are coming

and everyone's turbo'd

and carbon fibre

is the way to go, go.

Down at the robot factory

things are humming.
New radical suspension ---

no humans testing.
( Wind it up, wind it up. )
Take a trip

in your Freudian slip.
Doctor Ferdinand (Ferdie)

has you in his grip.

15. General Crossing

---

It's an old profession

of subtle artillery.
Rough wheels meshing ---

button out, button in.

The tall General will mine

a few bridges tonight,

stroking soft machinery.
Fanfare at dawn

courting green steel

lined up for World War One

( Two, Three, Four ).

It's an old profession

of subtle artillery.
Rough wheels meshing ---

on a landscape with no trees.

The tall General points

to the distance ---

disconnects his power supply.
Writes a stiff note to his nearest

and dearest ---

he takes the battle plan

and contemplates his fly.

The tall General

flies by the seat of history.
The tall General

is crossing.
The tall General

he thinks inevitability.
The tall General

is definitely crossing.
With spit and with polish ---

time for desperate measures.
The pain in the forehead

from holding up to the pressures

of life on the rim

of the convenient alliance.
Out on the rim ---

let me out on the rim.

The tall General will walk

across the compound

with his briefcase and I.D.
Later they'll post him

seemingly missing ---

he's gone to be a Generalski.

---