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from a dead beat to an old greaser - jethro tull lyrics

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 -ssistants fully-fashioned a world made
of dummies (with no mummies 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, ren\’e 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.

- jethro tull lyrics

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