
wind-up - jethro tull lyrics
“wind-up”
when i was young and they packed me off to school
and taught me how not to play the game,
i didn’t mind if they groomed me for success,
or if they said that i was a fool.
so i left there in the morning
with their god tucked underneath my arm —
their half–ssed smiles and the book of rules.
so i asked this god a question
and by way of firm reply,
he said — i’m not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
so to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares):
before i’m through i’d like to say my prayers —
i don’t believe you:
you had the whole d-mn thing all wrong —
he’s not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
well you can excomunicate me on my way to sunday school
and have all the bishops harmonize these lines —
how do you dare tell me that i’m my father’s son
when that was just an accident of birth.
i’d rather look around me — compose a better song
`cos that’s the honest measure of my worth.
in your pomp and all your glory you’re a poorer man than me,
as you lick the boots of death born out of fear.
i don’t believe you:
you had the whole d-mn thing all wrong —
he’s not the kind you have to wind up on sundays.
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