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Ian Anderson : Vocals, Flute, Accoustic Guitar, Bass Guitar.
Martin Barre : Electric Guitar, Mandolin and Classical
Guitar.
Barriemore Barlow : Drums, Percussion
John Evan : Piano, Organ.
David Palmer : Synthesisers, Portative Organ and Orchestral
Arrangements.
All songs composed by Ian Anderson, except Elegy, by David Palmer
Side One.
North Sea Oil *YouTube
Orion *YouTube
Home *YouTube
Dark Ages *YouTube
Warm Sporran *YouTube
Side Two.
Something's On The Move *YouTube
Old Ghosts *YouTube
Dun Ringill *YouTube
Flying Duchman *YouTube
Elegy *YouTube
Black and viscous --- bound to cure blue lethargy
Sugar-plum petroleum for energy
Tightrope-balanced payments need a small reprieve
Oh, please believe we want to be
in North Sea Oil
New-found wealth sits on the shelf of yesterday
Hot-air balloon --- inflation soon will make you pay
Riggers rig and diggers dig their shallow grave
But we'll be saved and what we crave
is North Sea Oil
Prices boom in Aberdeen and London Town
Ten more years to lay the fears, erase the frown
before we are all nuclear --- the better way!
Oh, let us pray: we want to stay
in North Sea Oil
Orion, won't you give me your star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on my hill and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
Orion, light your lights:
come guard the open spaces
from the black horizon to the pillow where I lie.
Your faithful dog shines brighter than its lord and master
Your jewelled sword twinkles as the world rolls by.
So come up singing above the cloudy cover
Stare through at people who toss fitful in their sleep.
I know you're watching as the old gent by the station
scuffs his toes on old fag packets lying in the street
And silver shadows flick across the closing bistro.
Sweet waiters link their arms and patter down the street,
their words lost blowing on cold winds in darkest Chelsea.
Prime years fly fading with each young heart's beat
Orion, won't you make me a star sign
Orion, get up on the sky-line
I'm high on your love and I feel fine
Orion, let's sip the heaven's heady wine
And young girls shiver as they wait by lonely bus-stops
after sad parties: no-one to take them home
to greasy bed-sitters and make a late-night play
for lost virginity a thousand miles away.
As the dawn sun breaks over sleepy gardens
I'll be here to do all things to comfort you.
And though I've been away
left you alone this way
why don't you come awake
and let your first smile take me home.
The shadows in the park were longer yesterday
and Lady Luck stood still, waiting for the kill.
And on a jumbo ride
over seas grey, deep and wide
I flew for heaven's sake
and let the angels take me home.
Down steep and narrow lanes I see the chimneys smoking
above the golden fields ... know what the robin feels
in his summer jamboree.
All elements agree
in sweet and stormy blend ---
midwife to winds that send me home.
Dark Ages
shaking the dead
Closed pages
better not read
Cold rages
burn in your head.
[Instrumental]
Warm Sporran back
to YouTube
She wore a black tiara
rare gems upon her fingers
and she came from distant waters
where northern lights explode
to celebrate the dawning
of the new wastes of winter
gathering royal momentum
on the icy road.
With chill mists swirling
like petticoats in motion
sighted on horizons
for ten thousand years
the lady of the ice sounds
a deathly distant rumble
to Titanic-breaking children lost
in melting crystal tears.
Capturing black pieces
in a glass-fronted museum
the white queen rolls
on the chessboard of the dawn
squeezing through the valleys
pausing briefly in the corries
the Ice-Mother mates
and a new age is born.
Driving all before her
un-stoppable, un-straining
her cold creaking mass
follows reindeer down.
Thin spreading fingers seek
to embrace the sill-warm bundles
that huddle on the doorsteps
of a white London Town.
Oh, sunshine --- take me now away from here
I'm a needle on a spiral in a groove.
And the turntable spins
as the last waltz begins
And the weather-man says
something's on the move.
Misty colours unfold a backcloth cold ---
fine tapestry of silk
I draw around me like a cloak
and soundless glide a-drifting
on eddies whirled in beech leaves furled ---
brown and gold they fly
in the warm mesh of sunlight
sifting now from a cloudless sky.
I'll be coming again like an old dog in pain
Blown through the eye of the hurricane
Down to the stones where old ghosts play.
Clear light on a slick palm
as I mis-deal the day
Slip the night from a shaved pack
make a marked card play
Call twilight hours down
from a heaven home
high above the highest bidder
for the good Lord's throne
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and we'll watch the old gods play
by Dun Ringill
We'll wait in stone circles
`til the force comes through ---
lines joint in faint discord
and the stormwatch brews
a concert of kings
as the white sea snaps
at the heels of a soft prayer
whispered
In the wee hours I'll meet you
down by Dun Ringill ---
oh, and I'll take you quickly
by Dun Ringill
Death grinning like a scarecrow --- Flying Dutchman
Seagull pilots flown from nowhere --- try and touch one
as she slips in on the full tide
and the harbour-master yells
All hands vanished with the captain ---
no one left, the tale to tell.
So come all you lovers of the good life
Look around you, can you see?
Staring ghostly in the mirror ---
it's the Dutchman you will be
..floating slowly out to sea
in a misty misery.
[Instrumental]
Elegy back
to YouTube
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