Jethro Tull - 01 Roots To Branches (1995) | Текст песни

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• Jethro Tull
• 01 Roots To Branches (1995)

Words get written, words get twisted
Old meanings move in the drift of time
Lift the flickering torches, see gentle shadows change
The features of the faces cut in unmoving stone

Bad mouth on a prayer day
Hope no one's listening
Roots down in the wet clay
Branches glistening

True disciples carrying that message
To colour just a little with their personal touch
Home-spun fancy weavers, naked half-believers
Crusades and creeds descend like fiery flakes of snow

Roots to branches
Roots to branches
Roots to branches

In wet and windy priest-holes, grand in vast cathedrals
High on lofty minarets or in the temples of doom
I hope the old man's got his face on, he'd better be some quick change artist
Suffer little children to make their minds up soon

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