|
Post by Equus on Dec 25, 2016 8:35:22 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 29, 2016 13:39:17 GMT
It was the best of times, and it was the worst of times... Love is all around us... Love actually...
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:25:10 GMT
I'll just post a few disco... (just kidding...) I'll start all over again... I'll just post a few Jethro Tull favorites of mine... and that's really easy, though nothing really is... but in this case it pretty easy... most Anderson songs are favorite of mine... Why doesn't he surprise us all with a Disco tune anyway? It wouldn't surprise me if Ian could pull it off... Let's face it... Ian is a hard working genius... Here's an oldie but goodie...
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:32:09 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:34:59 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:36:21 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:38:37 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:42:55 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 8:48:17 GMT
Happy new year everybody!! Global warming, here we come!!
Can be played simultaneously...but don't even think about it... It's one of my bad ideas...
|
|
|
Post by JTull 007 on Dec 30, 2016 20:34:36 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 30, 2016 21:05:17 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Dec 31, 2016 8:52:11 GMT
"Gather your toys at the call-to-arms And swing your big bear down..." - Ian Anderson
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 3, 2017 20:08:05 GMT
"Forgive me, Majesty. I am a vulgar man! But I assure you, my music is not." - Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 5, 2017 6:40:36 GMT
After These Wars:
After battle, with wounds to lick and Beaus and belles all reuniting. Rationing, austerity: it did us Good after the fighting. Now, time to bid some fond farewells and Walk away from empires crumbling. Post-war baby-boom to fuel with post- Victorian half-dressed fumbling.
I see a screen, grey cathode tube in Walnut cabinet, pride of place In holy family living room. Clipped- Tone announcer, powdered face. And now to mould public opinion, Sanctify the good and great. Lordly over his dominion, brash Television seals our fate.
After these wars, when gentler winds were blowing. After these wars, when stocking tops were showing. When the Co-op gave us daily bread And penicillin raised the dead And combine harvesters kept Us fed, after these wars.
We thanked the Yank and thanked the Lord for sparing us from dark invasion. Now to liberate, rebuild and balance Europe's new equation. Spooky spies in from the cold with Lies and secrets to be sold To bigger brothers, bigger bombs, Le Carre thrillers to be told.
We take our place amongst those others Who would punch above their weight. Divest ourselves of glowing mantle, Mantle of old Britain Great. Bit part cast in Hollywood, ripe Old thespian, tolerated. World-weary ham upon the stage, Evergreen but over-rated.
After these wars, when gentler winds were blowing. After these wars, when stocking tops were showing. When the Co-op gave us daily bread And penicillin raised the dead And combine harvesters kept Us fed, after these wars.
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 6, 2017 10:50:15 GMT
A is in my opinion a fabulous Jethro Tull record/CD/call it what you like... Mostly underestimated... Great stuff...
|
|
|
Post by JTull 007 on Jan 6, 2017 12:15:53 GMT
Son of a BACH !!! OMG !!!
|
|
|
Post by steelmonkey on Jan 6, 2017 19:23:29 GMT
If the football players and other bullies in their high school sse this, they are gonna get their asses kicked.
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 6, 2017 19:49:53 GMT
Son of a BACH !!! OMG !!! Great stuff, but where is Ian? A flute is always welcome!
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 6, 2017 19:55:22 GMT
Protect And Survive:
They said protect and you'll survive --- (but our postman didn't call) 8lbs. of over-pressure wave seemed to glue him to the wall They said protect and you'll survive
E.M.P. took out the radio --- (and our milk-man didn't call) Flash blinded by the pretty lights, didn't see his bottles fall or feel the warm black rain arrive
Big friendly cloud builds in the West (and our dust-men haven't called) They left the dual carriageway at a hundred miles an hour --- a tail wind chasing them away
And in deep shelters lurk below, sub-regional control who sympathise but cannot help to mend your body or your soul Self-appointed guadians of the race with egg upon their face When steady sirens sing all-clear they pop up, find nobody here
And so I watch two new suns spin --- (our paper man doesn't call) Burnt shadow printed on the road --- now there's nothing there at all They said protect and you'll survive
|
|
|
Post by rredmond on Jan 6, 2017 23:30:08 GMT
Recommendation from the Shoutbox crüe:
|
|
|
Post by ash on Jan 7, 2017 15:19:43 GMT
Control yourselves
|
|
|
Post by rredmond on Jan 7, 2017 17:43:00 GMT
That was interesting... The whole last minute or so was just the credits! Lots of peeps to recognize in the making of this video. Thanks for sharing! --Ron--
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 10:39:25 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 10:46:56 GMT
Doggerland:
Our footsteps o'er the Doggerland, chased retreating ice and snow, left us breathing high and dry, Land's End to Scapa Flow. The seeds of Albion, wind-blown free, scattered to the moors, dormant beneath the the soggy heath where stouter oaks will grow.
All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide
Strike with rock and flint and bone, follow trail and hoof. Onwards to another place, a place to raise a roof. And these four walls to shelter us upon this blessed plot: This earth, this realm, this England - island, alone, aloof.
All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide
Back across the Doggerland, Costa villa overkill. Warm farmhouses in Tuscany challenge Winter's will. We pensionable, geriatric, sun-creased wrinklies long for this earth, this realm, this England, a burial ground to fill.
All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with luggage, kids and sunscreen Melted mortgage, dreams that died All across the Doggerland All across before the tides Across with boar and elk and wolves Take the high lands near and wide
|
|
|
Post by JTull 007 on Jan 8, 2017 12:36:07 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 17:52:14 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 18:00:17 GMT
Crossfire:
Spring light in a hazy May and a man with a gun at the door Someone's crawling on the roof above --- all the media here for the show I've been waiting for our friends to come Like spiders down ropes to free-fall A thirty round clip for a visiting card --- admit one to the embassy ball
Caught in the crossfire on Princes Gate Avenue In go the windows and out go the lights Call me a doctor. Fetch me a policeman I'm down on the floor in one hell of a fight
I'm just a soul with an innocent face --- a regular boy dressed in blue conducting myself in a proper way as befitting the job that I do They came down on me like a ton of bricks Swept off my feet, knocked about There's nothing for it but to sit and wait for the hard men to get me out
Calm reason floats from the street below and the slow fuse burns through the night Everyone's tried to talk it through but they can't seem to get the deal right Somewhere there are Brownings in a two-hand hold --- cocked and locked, one up the spout There's nothing for it but to sit and wait for the hard men to get me out
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 18:12:42 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 8, 2017 19:33:16 GMT
|
|
|
Post by Equus on Jan 25, 2017 7:28:52 GMT
|
|