Video lyrics for thick as a brick

Really don’t mind if you sit this one outMy words but a whisper, your deafness, a shoutI may make you feel but I can’t make you thinkYour sperm’s in the gutter, your love’s in the sinkSo you ride yourselves over the fieldsAnd you make all your animal dealsAnd your wise men don’t know how it feelsTo be thick as a brick

And the sand castle virtues are all swept awayIn the tidal destruction, the moral meleeThe elastic retreat rings the close of playAs the last wave uncovers the newfangled wayBut your new shoes are worn at the heelsAnd your suntan does rapidly peelAnd your wise men don’t know how it feelsTo be thick as a brick

And the love that I feel is so far awayI’m a bad dream that I just had todayAnd you shake your headAnd say that it’s a shame

Spin me back down the yearsAnd the days of my youthDraw the lace and black curtainsAnd shut out the whole truthSpin me down the long agesLet them sing the song

See there, a son is bornAnd we pronounce him fit to fightThere are blackheads on his shouldersAnd there he pees himself in the nightWe’ll make a man of himPut him to tradeTeach him to play monopolyAnd how to sing in the rain

The poet and the painterCasting shadows on the waterAs the sun plays on the infantryReturning from the seaThe doer and the thinker, no allowance for the otherAs the failing light illuminates the mercenary’s creedThe home fire burning, the kettle almost boilingBut the master of the house is far awayThe horses stampingTheir warm breath cloudingIn the sharp and frosty morning of the dayAnd the poet lifts his penWhile the soldier sheaths his swordAnd the youngest of the familyIs moving with authorityBuilding castles by the seaHe dares the tardy tideTo wash them all aside

The cattle quietly grazing at the grassDown by the riverWhere the swelling mountain waterMoves onward to the seaThe builder of the castlesRenews the age-old purposeAnd contemplates the milking girlWhose offer is his needThe young men of the householdHave all gone into serviceAnd are not to be expected for a yearThe innocent young masterThoughts moving ever fasterHas formed the planTo change the man he seemsAnd the poet sheaths his penWhile the soldier lifts his swordAnd the oldest of the familyIs moving with authorityComing from across the seaHe challenges the sonWho puts him to the run

What do you do when the old man’s gone?Do you want to be him?And your real self sings the songDo you want to free him?No one to help you get up steamAnd the whirlpool turns you way off beam

I’ve come down from the upper classTo mend your rotten waysMy father was a man of powerWhom everyone obeyed

So come on all you criminals!I’ve got to put you straightJust like I did with my old manTwenty years too lateYour bread and water’s going coldYour hair is short and neatI’ll judge you all and make damn sureThat no one judges me

You curl your toes in funAs you smile at everyoneYou meet the staresYou’re unawareThat your doings aren’t doneAnd you laugh most ruthlesslyAs you tell us what not to beBut how are we supposed to seeWhere we should run?

I see you shuffle in the courtroomWith your rings upon your fingersAnd your downy little sidiesAnd your silver-buckle shoesPlaying at the hard caseYou follow the example of the comic-paper idolWho lets you bend the rules

So, come on you childhood heroesWon’t you rise up from the pagesOf your comic-books, you super crooksAnd show us all the way?Well, make your will and testamentWon’t you join your local government?We’ll have superman for presidentLet robin save the dayYou put your bet on number oneAnd it comes up every timeThe other kids have all backed downAnd they put you first in lineAnd so you finally ask yourselfJust how big you areAnd you take your place in a wiser worldOf bigger motor cars

(And you wonder who to call on)

So, where the hell was bigglesWhen you needed him last Saturday?And where are all the sportsmenWho always pulled you through?They’re all resting down in cornwallWriting up their memoirsFor a paperback edition of the boy scout manual

See there, a man is bornAnd we pronounce him fit for peaceThere’s a load lifted from his shouldersWith the discovery of his diseaseWe’ll take the child from him, put it to the testTeach it to be a wise man, how to fool the rest

We will be gearing toward the averageRather than the exceptionalGod’s an overwhelming responsibilityWe walked through the maternity wardAnd saw 218 babies wearing nylonsIt says here that catsAre on the upgrade, upgrade?

In the clear white circles of morning wonderI take my place with the lord of the hillsAnd the blue-eyed soldiersStand slightly discoloredIn neat little rowsSporting canvas frillswith their jock-straps pinchingThey slouch to attentionWhilst queuing for sarniesAt the office canteenSinging, how’s your grannie? And good old ernieHe coughed up a tennerOn a premium bond win

The legends worded in the ancient tribal hymnLie cradled in the seagull’s callAnd all the promises they madeAre ground beneath the sadist’s fall

The poet and the wise man stand behind the gunAnd signal for the crack of dawn, light the sunDo you believe in the day?

The dawn creation of the kings has begunSoft venus lonely maidenBrings the ageless oneDo you believe in the day?

The fading hero has returned to the nightAnd fully pregnant with the dayWise men endorse the poet’s sightDo you believe in the day?Do you? Believe in the day!

Let me tell you the tales of your lifeOf your love and the cut of the knifeThe tireless oppression the wisdom instilledThe desire to kill or be killedLet me sing of the losers who lieIn the street as the last bus goes byThe pavements are emptyThe gutters run redWhile the fool toasts his God in the sky

So, come all ye young menWho are building castlesKindly state the time of the yearAnd join your voices in a hellish chorusMark the precise nature of your fear

Let me help you to pick up your deadAs the sins of the father are fedWith the blood of the foolsAnd the thoughts of the wiseAnd from the pan under your bedLet me make you a present of songAs the wise man breaks wind and is goneWhile the fool with the hour-glassIs cooking his gooseAnd the nursery rhyme winds along

So, come all ye young menWho are building castlesKindly state the time of the yearAnd join your voices in a hellish chorusMark the precise nature of your fearSee, the summer lightningCasts its bolts upon youAnd the hour of judgement draweth nearWould you be the fool stood in the suit of armourOr the wiser man who rushes clear?

So, come on you childhood heroesWon’t you rise up from the pagesOf your comic-books, your super-crooksAnd show us all the way?Well, make your will and testamentWon’t you join your local government?We’ll have superman for presidentLet robin save the day

So, where the hell was bigglesWhen you needed him last Saturday?And where are all the sportsmenWho always pulled you through?They’re all resting down in cornwallWriting up their memoirsFor a paperback edition of the boy scout manual

Of courseSo you ride yourselves over the fieldsAnd you make all your animal dealsAnd your wise men don’t know how it feelsTo be thick as a brick

About Author

Kay Adams