Jethro Tull - Wond'ring Again

Jethro Tull - Wond'ring Again

(Ian Anderson)

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.

Category:

Music

Tags:

• jethro
• tull
• wond'ring
• wondering
• again
• aloud
• classic
• folk
• rock
• piano
• ballad
• lyrics
• living
• in
• the
• past
• album

[microphen]

we'll not see his like again

[barefoot191]

What a visionary to write this some 40 years ago. Ian's view of politics and religion jotted own on a piece of paper then transformed into musical magic is the work of a pure genius.

[willicat441]

In 4 minutes and 15 seconds Ian constructs a profound trilogy, questioning the rise and fall of the human condition, and all it's fallacies laid bare....

Hmm..don't remember other groups so complex, so substantial. So efficient.

[MrMajorTime]

@500fFOUR Thanks. Glad to be of help.

[500fFOUR]

@MrMajorTime I never thought I would experience a self published TOSSER!

[MrMajorTime]

@graciehunterII You're such a fucking moron, there's nothing to say. I'm waiting with anticipation to see what a sane "adult" has to say. Go ahead and spout your wisdom. We'll see what gems you come up with. So far it doesn't seem so sane to me. "Fucktard fundies"? is that something mature geniuses call their lessers? Maybe you're just getting warmed up. But continue. I'm sure we're all waiting for your gifted, level-headed insight. Take your time. Use any real words. I won't interrupt, asshole.

[graciehunterII]

@MrMajorTime Holy Hell! Do you fucktard fundies have to shit all over everything?

Ian Anderson also wrote, "In the beginning, man created God and in his image did he create Him." Truer words were never written.

I doubt that "The Lord" had much to do with Anderson's songwriting.

Keep your religion in your church and let the sane among us deal with reality.

Now, go somewhere and "Tebow" while the adults here have a conversation.

[MrMajorTime]

To project your intention into the future of what will transpire is great rhythm.

[MrMajorTime]

I would trade all the lyrics I've heard in the 21st century for:

STUMBLED ON A DAFODILL, WHICH SHE CRUSHED IN THE RUSH..

Stumble denotes that she "came across" a flower. Simultaneously it connotes that she found the flower she crushed. The sensitivity to "trip" on a flower that was harmed by stumbling over such a seemingly insignificant item. Like stumbling on a root or a rock. But no, it was a flower that set her off balance even as she made the indescretion of it's destruction! Such subtley.

[MrMajorTime]

WE are the more music to come. Nice we had such a soul to tell it like it is. Hell, he wasn't even interested in legacy (rare). If any artist was ever present in his life while he lived (parallel Stanley kubrick?)! He was just denoting observations, feelings, truisms as he saw them fleet by. In the aging seclusion, the imminent sense of time passing, that we are everyone was timeless and ahead of his time. Aqualung, you poor old sot, you see it's only me. There's a little Aqualung in all humans.

[tmtait]

Beautiful song, I love the seat of the sound that flows through the music - the luminescent flute wafting among the intertwined oaken staves of the rustic Seat that still grows, though it is culled to build the chair, leaves sprouting like the promise of more music to follow and the musing of the growing acorn kernels nestled in the back of the Seat. :) Truly where I see Ian Anderson, when he has dropped to both legs and contemplating the natural world and conversing with her guardian, Pan. :)