Let me bring you Coral Progressive Rock

Songs From The Wood
Jethro Tull

Let me bring you songs from the wood:
to make you feel much better than you could know.
Dust you down from tip to toe.
Show you how the garden grows.
Hold you steady as you go.
Join the chorus if you can:
it'll make of you an honest man.

Let me bring you love from the field:
poppies red and roses filled with summer rain.
To heal the wound and still the pain
that threatens again and again
as you drag down every lover's lane.
Life's long celebration's here.
I'll toast you all in penny cheer.

Let me bring you all things refined:
galliards and lute songs served in chilling ale.
Greetings well met fellow, hail!
I am the wind to fill your sail.
I am the cross to take your nail:
A singer of these ageless times.
With kitchen prose and gutter rhymes.

Songs from the wood make you feel much better.

The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles

This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. Sitting on a
Fence one day, he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close
By.
Now this may not seem strange, but when owl overheard kangaroo whisper
To no one in particular, ``the hare has lost his spectacles,’’ well, he
Began to wonder.
Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on
The grass was hare. in the stream that flowed by the grass -- a
Newt. and sitting astride a twig of a bush -- a bee.
Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with excitement, for
Without his spectacles he was completely helpless. Where were his
Spectacles? could someone have stolen them? had he mislaid them? what
Was he to do?
Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began: ``you
Probably ate them thinking they were a carrot.’’
``no!’’ interrupted owl, who was wise. ``i have good eye-sight, insight,
And foresight. How could an intelligent hare make such a silly
Mistake? ’’ but all this time, owl had been sitting on the fence,
Scowling!
Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk. She thought herself
Far superior in intelligence to the others. She was their leader;
Their guru. She had the answer: ``hare, you must go in search of the
Optician.’’
But then she realized that hare was completely helpless without his
Spectacles. And so, kangaroo loudly proclaimed, ``i can’t send hare in
Search of anything!’’
``you can guru, you can!’’ shouted newt. ``you can send him with owl.’’
But owl had gone to sleep. Newt knew too much to be stopped by so
Small a problem -- ``you can take him in your pouch.’’ but alas, hare
Was much too big to fit into kangaroo’s pouch.
All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others knew
Nothing about spectacles.
As for all their tempting ideas, well hare didn’t care.
The lost spectacles were his own affair.
And after all, hare did have a spare a-pair.
A-pair.

Jethro Tull

Wond'ring Again

There's the stillness of death on a deathly unliving sea,
and the motor car magical world long since ceased to be,
when the Eve-bitten apple returned to destroy the tree.
Incestuous ancestry's charabanc ride,
spawning new millions throws the world on its side.
Supporting their far-flung illusion, the national curse,
and those with no sandwiches please get off the bus.


The excrement bubbles,
the century's slime decays
and the brainwashing government lackeys
would have us say
it's under control and we'll soon be on our way
to a grand year for babies and quiz panel games
of the hot hungry millions you'll be sure to remain.


The natural resources are dwindling and no one grows old,
and those with no homes to go to, please dig yourself holes.


We wandered through quiet lands, felt the first breath of snow.
Searched for the last pigeon, slate grey I've been told.


Stumbled on a daffodil which she crushed in the rush, heard it sigh,
and left it to die.
At once felt remorse and were touched by the loss of our own,
held its poor broken head in her hands,
dropped soft tears in the snow,
and it's only the taking that makes you what you are.


Wond'ring aloud will a son one day be born
to share in our infancy
in the child's path we've worn.
In the aging seclusion of this earth that our birth did surprise
we'll open his eyes.

Jethro Tull
Ian Anderson
LIVING IN THE PAST