Wond'ring Aloud, Again - Jethro Tull

Wond’ring aloud

how we feel today.

Last night sipped the sunset

my hands in her hair.

We are our own saviours

as we start both our hearts beating life

into each other.

Wond’ring aloud

will the years treat us well?

As she floats in the kitchen,

I’m tasting the smell (yes)

of toast as the butter runs.

Then she comes, spilling crumbs on the bed

and I shake my head.

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.