Thick as a Brick (Pt. I) - 1997 Remaster

Really don't mind if you sit this one out
 My words but a whisper your deafness a SHOUT
 I may make you feel but I can't make you think
 Your sperm's in the gutter your love's in the sink
 So you ride yourselves over the fields
 And you make all your animal deals
 And you wise men don't know how it feels
 To be thick as a brick
 ♪
 And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away
 In the tidal destruction the moral melee
 The elastic retreat rings the close of play
 As the last wave uncovers the newfangled way
 But your new shoes are worn at the heels
 And your suntan does rapidly peel
 And your wise men don't know how it feels
 To be thick as a brick.
 ♪
 And the love that I feel
 Is so far away
 I'm a bad dream that I just had today
 ♪
 And you shake your head
 And say it's a shame
 ♪
 Spin me back down the years
 And the days of my youth
 Draw the lace and black curtains
 And shut out the whole truth
 Spin me down the long ages
 Let them sing the song
 ♪
 See there! A son is born
 And we pronounce him fit to fight
 There are black-heads on his shoulders
 And he pees himself in the night
 We'll make a man of him
 Put him to trade
 Teach him to play Monopoly
 And how to sing in the rain
 ♪
 The Poet and the Painter
 Casting shadows on the water
 As the sun plays on the infantry
 Returning from the sea
 The do-er and the thinker
 No allowance for the other
 As the failing light illuminates
 The mercenary's creed.
 The home fire burning: 0
 The kettle almost boiling
 But the master of the house is far away
 The horses stamping
 Their warm breath clouding
 In the sharp and frosty morning of the day
 And the poet lifts his pen
 While the soldier sheaths his sword
 And the youngest of the family
 Is moving with authority
 Building castles by the sea
 He dares the tardy tide
 To wash them all aside
 ♪
 The cattle quietly grazing
 At the grass down by the river
 Where the swelling mountain water
 Moves onward to the sea
 The builder of the castles
 Renews the age-old purpose
 And contemplates the milking girl
 Whose offer is his need
 The young men of the household
 Have all gone into service
 And are not to be expected for a year
 The innocent young master
 Thoughts moving ever faster
 Has formed the plan to change the man he seems
 And the poet sheaths his pen
 While the soldier lifts his sword
 And the oldest of the family
 Is moving with authority
 Coming from across the sea
 He challenges the son
 Who puts him to the run
 ♪
 What do you do when the old man's gone
 Do you want to be him?
 And your real self sings the song
 Do you want to free him?
 No one to help you get up steam
 ♪
 And the whirlpool turns you 'way off-beam
 ♪
 I've come down from the upper class
 To mend your rotten ways
 My father was a man-of-power
 Whom everyone obeyed
 ♪
 So come on all you criminals!
 I've got to put you straight
 Just like I did with my old man
 Twenty years too late
 ♪
 Your bread and water's going cold
 Your hair is too short and neat
 I'll judge you all and make damn sure
 That no-one judges me
 ♪
 You curl your toes in fun
 As you smile at everyone
 You meet the stares
 You're unaware that your doings aren't done
 And you laugh most ruthlessly
 As you tell us what not to be
 But how are we supposed
 To see where we should run?
 ♪
 I see you shuffle in the courtroom
 With your rings upon your fingers
 And your downy little sidies
 And your silver-buckle shoes.
 Playing at the hard case,
 You follow the example
 Of the comic-paper idol
 Who lets you bend the rules.
 ♪
 So!
 Come on ye childhood heroes!
 Won't you rise up from the pages
 Of your comic-books
 Your super crooks
 And show us all the way
 Well! Make your will and testament
 Won't you? Join your local government
 We'll have Superman for president
 Let Robin save the day
 You put your bet on number one
 And it comes up every time
 The other kids have all backed down
 And they put you first in line
 And so you finally ask yourself
 Just how big you are
 And take your place in a wiser world
 Of bigger motor cars
 And you wonder who to call on
 So! Where the hell was Biggles
 When you needed him last Saturday?
 And where were all the sportsmen
 Who always pulled you though?
 They're all resting down in Cornwall
 Writing up their memoirs
 For a paper-back edition
 Of the Boy Scout Manual