Jethro Tull - General Crossing Lyrics
Its an old professionOf subtle artillery.Rough wheels meshing ---Button out, button in.The tall general will mineA few bridges tonight,Stroking soft machinery.Fanfare at dawnCourting green steelLined up for world war one(two, three, four).Its an old professionOf subtle artillery.Rough wheels meshing ---On a landscape with no trees.The tall general pointsTo the distance ---Disconnects his power supply.Writes a stiff note to his nearestAnd dearest ---He takes the battle planAnd contemplates his fly.The tall generalFlies by the seat of history.The tall generalIs crossing.The tall generalHe thinks inevitability.The tall generalIs definitely crossing.With spit and with polish ---Time for desperate measures.The pain in the foreheadFrom holding up to the pressuresOf life on the rimOf the convenient alliance.Out on the rim ---Let me out on the rim.The tall general will walkAcross the compoundWith his briefcase and i.d.Later theyll post himSeemingly missing ---Hes gone to be a generalski.
