Minstrel in the Gallery (2024 remaster / 96/24 stereo) Songtext
von Jethro Tull
Minstrel in the Gallery (2024 remaster / 96/24 stereo) Songtext
My lord and lady
We have fortuitously happened upon these strolling players
Who will provide you with goodly tunes whilst you set about your, prandial delights
Albeit in the lamentable absence of your guests (I can′t see down there, alright)
So, my lord and lady, for your entertainment (I don't think they′re going to like this much though)
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces
Between the old men's cackle
He brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
Freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters
Salaried and collar-scrubbing
He titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention
He pacified the nappy-suffering
Infant-bleating one-line jokers
TV documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called (and he called) the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he′d made
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces
In-between the old men′s cackle
Then he brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions, and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
Then he threw away his looking-glass
He saw his face in everyone
Hey, he titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention
Salaried and collar-scrubbing, yeah
He pacified the nappy-suffering
Infant-bleating, one-line jokers
TV documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
Then he threw away his looking-glass
And saw his face in everyone
Hey
The minstrel in the gallery, yes
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, yeah
Mm, the minstrel in the gallery
We have fortuitously happened upon these strolling players
Who will provide you with goodly tunes whilst you set about your, prandial delights
Albeit in the lamentable absence of your guests (I can′t see down there, alright)
So, my lord and lady, for your entertainment (I don't think they′re going to like this much though)
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces
Between the old men's cackle
He brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
Freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters
Salaried and collar-scrubbing
He titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention
He pacified the nappy-suffering
Infant-bleating one-line jokers
TV documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called (and he called) the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he′d made
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces
In-between the old men′s cackle
Then he brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions, and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
Then he threw away his looking-glass
He saw his face in everyone
Hey, he titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention
Salaried and collar-scrubbing, yeah
He pacified the nappy-suffering
Infant-bleating, one-line jokers
TV documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers
Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
Then he threw away his looking-glass
And saw his face in everyone
Hey
The minstrel in the gallery, yes
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, yeah
Mm, the minstrel in the gallery
Writer(s): Ian Anderson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
