Είπα να βάλω ένα απ’ τα blues των Jethro Tull αλλά για κάποιο λογο κατέληξα να ακούω αυτή την μπαλάντα. Ένα από τα πιο λυρικά κομμάτια που έχει γράψει ο Ian Anderson, υποτιμημένο σχετικά, όπως και συνολικά το άλμπουμ.
I thought of hearing one of the blues Jethro Tull, but for some reason I ended up listening to this exceptional ballad. One of the most lyrical songs Ian Anderson has ever written, and a rather underestimated one – that goes for the entire album.
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 mommies 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, René 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.