Текст песни Thick As A Brick (Jethro Tull) с переводом

I may make you feel but I can’t make you think

Your sperm’s in the gutter -- your love’s in the sink

So you ride yourselves over the fields and

You make all your animal deals and

Your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick

And the sand-castle virtues are all swept away in

The tidal destruction

The moral melee

The elastic retreat rings the close of play

As the last wave uncovers the newfangled way

But your new shoes are worn at the heels and

Your suntan does rapidly peel and

Your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick

And the love that I feel is so far away:

I’m a bad dream that I just had today -- and you

Shake your head and

Say it’s a shame

Spin me back down the years and the days of my youth

Draw the lace and black curtains and shut out the whole truth

Spin me down the long ages: let them sing the song

See there! A son is born -- and we pronounce him fit to fight

There are black-heads on his shoulders, and he pees himself in the night

We’ll

Make a man of him

Put him to trade

Teach him

To play Monopoly and

To sing in the rain

The Poet and the painter casting shadows on the water --

As the sun plays on the infantry returning from the sea

The do-er and the thinker: no allowance for the other --

As the failing light illuminates the mercenary’s creed

The home fire burning: the kettle almost boiling --

But the master of the house is far away

The horses stamping -- their warm breath clouding

In the sharp and frosty morning of the day

And the poet lifts his pen while the soldier sheaths his sword

And the youngest of the family is moving with authority

Building castles by the sea, he dares the tardy tide to wash them all aside

The cattle quietly grazing at the grass down by the river

Where the swelling mountain water moves onward to the sea:

The builder of the castles renews the age-old purpose

And contemplates the milking girl whose offer is his need

The young men of the household have

All gone into service and

Are not to be expected for a year

The innocent young master -- thoughts moving ever faster --

Has formed the plan to change the man he seems

And the poet sheaths his pen while the soldier lifts his sword

And the oldest of the family is moving with authority

Coming from across the sea, he challenges the son who puts him to the run

What do you do when

The old man’s gone -- do you want to be him? And

Your real self sings the song

Do you want to free him?

No one to help you get up steam --

And the whirlpool turns you 'way off-beam

LATER

I’ve come down from the upper class to mend your rotten ways

My father was a man-of-power whom everyone obeyed

So come on all you criminals!

I’ve got to put you straight just like I did with my old man --

Twenty years too late

Your bread and water’s going cold

Your hair is too short and neat

I’ll judge you all and make damn sure that no-one judges me

You curl your toes in fun as you smile at everyone -- you meet the stares

You’re unaware that your doings aren’t done

And you laugh most ruthlessly as you tell us what not to be

But how are we supposed to see where we should run?

I see you shuffle in the courtroom with

Your rings upon your fingers and

Your downy little sidies and

Your silver-buckle shoes

Playing at the hard case, you follow the example of the comic-paper idol

Who lets you bend the rules

So!

Come on ye childhood heroes!

Won’t you rise up from the pages of your comic-books

Your super crooks

And show us all the way

Well! Make your will and testament. Won’t you?

Join your local government

We’ll have Superman for president

Let Robin save the day

You put your bet on number one and it comes up every time

The other kids have all backed down and they put you first in line

And so you finally ask yourself just how big you are --

And take your place in a wiser world of bigger motor cars

And you wonder who to call on

So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?

And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you though?

They’re all resting down in Cornwall --

Writing up their memoirs for a paper-back edition

Of the Boy Scout Manual

LATER

See there! A man born -- and we pronounce him fit for peace

There’s a load lifted from his shoulders with the discovery of his disease

We’ll

Take the child from him

Put it to the test

Teach it

To be a wise man

How to fool the rest

QUOTE

We will be geared to the average rather than the exceptional

God is an overwhelming responsibility

We walked through the maternity ward and saw 218 babies wearing nylons

Cats are on the upgrade

Upgrade? Hipgrave. Oh, Mac

LATER

In the clear white circles of morning wonder

I take my place with the lord of the hills

And the blue-eyed soldiers stand slightly discoloured (in neat little rows)

Sporting canvas frills

With their jock-straps pinching, they slouch to attention

While queueing for sarnies at the office canteen

Saying -- how’s your granny and

Good old Ernie: he coughed up a tenner on a premium bond win

The legends (worded in the ancient tribal hymn) lie cradled

In the seagull’s call

And all the promises they made are ground beneath the sadist’s fall

The poet and the wise man stand behind the gun

And signal for the crack of dawn

Light the sun

Do you believe in the day? Do you?

Believe in the day! The Dawn Creation of the Kings has begun

Soft Venus (lonely maiden) brings the ageless one

Do you believe in the day?

The fading hero has returned to the night -- and fully pregnant with the day

Wise men endorse the poet’s sight

Do you believe in the day? Do you? Believe in the day!

Let me tell you the tales of your life of

Your love and the cut of the knife

The tireless oppression

The wisdom instilled

The desire to kill or be killed

Let me sing of the losers who lie in the street as the last bus goes by

The pavements are empty: the gutters run red -- while the fool

Toasts his god in the sky

So come all ye young men who are building castles!

Kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus

Mark the precise nature of your fear

Let me help you pick up your dead as the sins of the father are fed

With

The blood of the fools and

The thoughts of the wise and

From the pan under your bed

Let me make you a present of song as

The wise man breaks wind and is gone while

The fool with the hour-glass is cooking his goose and

The nursery rhyme winds along

So! Come all ye young men who are building castles!

Kindly state the time of the year and join your voices in a hellish chorus

Mark the precise nature of your fear

See! The summer lightning casts its bolts upon you

And the hour of judgement draweth near

Would you be

The fool stood in his suit of armour or

The wiser man who rushes clear

So! Come on ye childhood heroes!

Won’t your rise up from the pages of your comic-books

Your super-crooks and

Show us all the way

Well! Make your will and testament

Won’t you? Join your local government

We’ll have Superman for president

Let Robin save the day

So! Where the hell was Biggles when you needed him last Saturday?

And where were all the sportsmen who always pulled you through?

They’re all resting down in Cornwall -- writing up their memoirs

For a paper-back edition of the Boy Scout Manual

OF COURSE

So you ride yourselves over the fields and

You make all your animal deals and

Your wise men don’t know how it feels to be thick as a brick