"Calliandra Shade (The Cappuccino Song)"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); Ian Anderson Plays The Orchestral Jethro Tull (2005); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
I sit in judgement on the market square, I have my favourite table and I have my chair
Natives are friendly and the sun flies high, all kinds of crazy waiters, they go drifting by
Hours last forever in the Calliandra shade, conversation going nowhere and yet, everywhere
Kick off those sad shoes and let the bare toes tingle, slip off that shoulder strap, loosen the thick black hair
Come, sit with me and take decaf designer coffee, come, laugh and listen as the ragamuffin children play
Lame dog and a black cat, now they shuffle in the shadows, you got cappuccino lip on a short skirt day
Electric afternoon and shrill cellphones are mating, lame dog is dreaming, dreaming of a better life
Where bed is fluffy pillows, table scraps are filet mignon, flicked indiscretely by the lazy waiter’s knife
Come, sit with me and take decaf designer coffee, come, laugh and listen as the ragamuffin children play
Lame dog and a black cat, now they shuffle in the shadows, you got cappuccino lip on a short skirt day
Hours last forever in the Calliandra shade, conversation going nowhere and yet, everywhere
Kick off those sad shoes and let the bare toes tingle, slip off that shoulder strap, loosen the thick black hair
Come, sit with me and take decaf designer coffee, come, laugh and listen as the ragamuffin children play
Lame dog and a black cat, now they shuffle in the shadows, you got cappuccino lip on a short skirt day
Come, sit with me and take decaf designer coffee, come, laugh and listen as the ragamuffin children play
Lame dog and a black cat, now they shuffle in the shadows, you got cappuccino lip on a short skirt day
"Rupi’s Dance"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006); The Best of Acoustic Jethro Tull (2007)
She dances through the flower-filled room, sea-green eyes a-sparking
Or are they blue? The message clear, seduce the master, winking
Dainty feet circles inscribe upon the frozen parquet
Arabesque in compound time, stately Pavane or Bourée
Sultry smile, come hither gaze, black hair softly shining
Calls me up to half-lit bed, sweet cloud with golden lining
Oh, so young with ageless smile, born of ungodly maker
Draws me moth to candle bright, fiery pleasure-seeker
Sultry smile, come hither gaze, black hair softly shining
Calls me up to half-lit bed, sweet cloud with golden lining
She dances through the flower-filled room, sea-green eyes a-sparking
It’s Rupi’s dance, the message clear, her movement does the talking, it’s Rupi’s dance
"Lost In Crowds"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); Ian Anderson Plays The Orchestral Jethro Tull (2005); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
I get lost in crowds, if I can I remain invisible to the hungry mouths I stay unapproachable
I wear the landscape of the urban chameleon, scarred by attention and quietly addicted to innocence
At starry parties where amongst the rich and the famous, I’m stuck for words or worse, I blether with the best of them
I see their eyes glaze and they look for the drinks tray, something in the drift of my conversation bothers them
So, who am I? Come on ask me, I dare you. So, who am I? Come on question me, if you care to
And why not try to interrogate this apparition? I melt away to get lost in this quaint condition
In scary airports, in concourses over-filled, I am detached in serious observation
As a passenger, I become un-tethered when I get lost in clouds, at home with my own quiet company
So, who am I? Come on ask me, I dare you. So, who am I? Come on question me, if you care to
And why not try to interrogate this apparition? I melt away to get lost in this quaint condition
I get lost in crowds, if I can I remain invisible to the hungry mouths I stay unapproachable
I wear the landscape of the urban chameleon, scarred by attention and quietly addicted to innocence
So, who am I? Come on ask me, I dare you. So, who am I? Come on question me, if you care to
And why not try to interrogate this apparition? I melt away to get lost in this quaint condition
So, who am I? Come on ask me, I dare you. So, who am I? Come on question me, if you care to
And why not try to interrogate this apparition? I melt away to get lost in this quaint condition
Herald Tribune or USA Today, Sauvignon Blanc or okay Chardonnay
Asleep for the movie, awake for the dawn, dancing on England and hedgerows embossed on a carpet of green
I descend and, forgive me, I mean to get lost in crowds
"A Raft of Penguins"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
A raft of penguins on a frozen sea, expectant faces look down on me
Shuffle uneasy, the whistler plays, counting eleven, they begin to pray
Tenuous but clinging, the missing link, joins us closer than we might think
Some half remembered coarse jungle drum, a naked heart-beat, trill and hum
This world’s no stage for the faint at heart, each symphony, a sum of parts
Each overture, a sweet foreplay, let’s crash and burn some other day
Bonded in terror or suspicion deep, tentative tiptoe or giant leap
Call down the angels to guide them in, a raft of penguins, take to the wing
A raft of penguins on a frozen sea, expectant faces look down on me
Shuffle uneasy, the whistler plays, counting eleven, they begin to pray
"A Week of Moments"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
A week of moments, a clutch of days, ten thousand minutes of a Passion Play
Medley of quavers informs the tune, it’s all too much, over all too soon
Sweet condensation on chilling wine, traveler’s palm, flamboyant tree
Fast photos ripped and lost consign, a week of moments to faint memory
A week of moments plucked from the page, found far horizons, a sunset stage
Suitcases bulge, in silence packed, a chapter closed, no looking back
The lightest touch upon my arm, no fierce restraint, no call to stay
Hushed room maids glide like pawns to king, with pool attendants in chess piece array
A week of moments, a clutch of days, ten thousand minutes of a Passion Play
Medley of quavers informs the tune, it’s all too much, over all too soon
Sweet condensation on chilling wine, traveler’s palm, flamboyant tree
Fast photos ripped and lost consign, a week of moments to faint memory
"A Hand of Thumbs"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
My hand of thumbs is shaking, I am so glad to meet you
All tongue-tied and twisted, my lips stuck like glue
More than a lifetime to say, "How are you?" More than an ocean to cross becalmed
Less than a second to sink in silence, yours truly, I remain disarmed
Saw you peeping from the corner, your eyes seemed to call hello
I’m all too easily mistaken, my feet unsteady as they go
More than a lifetime to say, "How are you?" More than an ocean to cross becalmed
Less than a second to sink in silence, yours truly, I remain disarmed
Was I a suave and confident trickster, I would sweep you up and carry you down
To raspberry meadows, under diamond skies and just mess around, just mess around
My hand of thumbs is shaking, I am so glad to meet you
All tongue-tied and twisted, my lips stuck like glue
More than a lifetime to say, "How are you?" More than an ocean to cross becalmed
Less than a second to sink in silence, yours truly, I remain disarmed
"Eurology" (Instrumental)
music by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); Ian Anderson Plays The Orchestral Jethro Tull (2005); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006); Live At Montreux 2003 (2007)
"Old Black Cat"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
My old black cat passed away this morning, he never knew what a hard day was
Woke up late and danced on tin roofs, if questioned "Why?" Answered, "Just because."
He never spoke much, preferring silence, eight lost lives was all he had
Occasionally sneaked some Sunday dinner, he wasn’t good and he wasn’t bad
My old black cat wasn’t much of a looker, you could pass him by, just a quiet shadow
Got pushed around by all the other little guys, didn’t seem to mind much, just the way life goes
Padded about in furry slippers, didn’t make any special friends
He played it cool with wide-eyed innocence, receiving gladly what the good Lord sends
Forgot to give his Christmas present, black cat collar, nice and new
Thought he’d make it through to New Year, I guess this song will have to do
My old black cat, old black cat
"Photo Shop"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
A Morris Minor, a café noir, banana smoothie, snails in a jar
Three dodgy sailors, a girl on skates, a little too muscled from doing weights
The crumpled sheets of a long hot summer, stored images like an acorn drop
Squirreled away, but still remembered by the man in the photo shop
A family wedding, a sushi bar, in the Seychelles, karaoke star
Lads on the razzle get lost in love, Paddington station, rain clouds above
The crumpled sheets of a long hot summer, stored images like an acorn drop
Squirreled away, but still remembered by the man in the photo shop
Rush hour on Praed Street, behind the glass, a picture process, in just one hour fast
Intimate portraits of topless wives, flashed indiscretions, snap-happy lives
The crumpled sheets of a long hot summer, stored images like an acorn drop
Squirreled away, but still remembered by the man in the photo shop
"Pigeon Flying Over Berlin Zoo"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
I’m thinking free, like the bird, flying over, over the animals in the zoo, how do you do? What’s it like to be in there? Think about it
You’re locked behind wires, safe and warm, under house arrest protection from the wild, wild storm and tempest raging here on the outside, think about it
Pigeon I, pigeon toed, I’m pigeon-friendly, as pigeons go, pigeon lonely, pigeon English. What’s it like to be in there? Think about it
Harsh spaces, empty freedom, scary concept, wrong side of the window, which one of us will wake imprisoned come tomorrow? Think about it
Pigeon I, pigeon toed, I’m pigeon-friendly, as pigeons go, pigeon lonely, pigeon English. What’s it like to be in there? Think about it
I’m thinking free, like the bird, flying over, over the animals in the zoo, how do you do? What’s it like to be in there? Think about it
Pigeon I, pigeon toed, I’m pigeon-friendly, as pigeons go, pigeon lonely, pigeon English. What’s it like to be in there? Think about it
Give it due consideration, weigh it up, kiss me quickly, pigeon friendly, let me in there to be with you, mull it over
Give it due consideration, weigh it up, kiss me quickly, pigeon friendly, let me in there to be with you, think about it
"Griminelli’s Lament" (Instrumental)
music by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); Ian Anderson Plays The Orchestral Jethro Tull (2005); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
"Not Ralitsa Vassileva"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006)
Dinner table chattering classes, tell all we need to know
Like it, lump it, dig it, dump it on your late, late show
And do you think you’re Ralitsa Vassileva? You’re just hand-me-down news in a cookie jar
It’s a long way from here to CNN in America and a red-eyed opinion too far
Dish the dirt or dish the gravy, spill the beans to me
Sinking fast in terminal boredom, feigned interest flying free
And do you think you’re Ralitsa Vassileva? You’re just hand-me-down news in a cookie jar
It’s a long way from here to CNN in America and a red-eyed opinion too far
Talking monkey, breaking news junkie, tragedies to reveal
Light and breezy, up-beat squeezy, close in to touchy-feel
Pass the Merlot, dance the three-step, cut to a better chase
Align yourself with no proposition and simpler thoughts embrace
Let’s talk about me, let’s talk about you, in a world of private rooms
Hide awhile from dark stormbringers, sad messengers of doom
Sadly, you can’t be Ralitsa Vassileva, you’re just hand-me-down news in a cookie jar
It’s a long way from here to CNN in America and a red-eyed opinion too far
And do you think you’re Ralitsa Vassileva? You’re just hand-me-down news in a cookie jar
It’s a long way from here to CNN in America and a red-eyed opinion too far
"Two Short Planks"
music and lyrics by Ian Anderson
Rupi's Dance (2003); Ian Anderson Plays The Orchestral Jethro Tull (2005); The Ian Anderson Collection (2006); Live At Montreux 2003 (2007)
Find some way to square the circle, feet slipping, sliding on the level
Connect to reason, is there anybody there? Drum it in to me now if you dare
Triangles by Isosceles, principles by Archimedes
Amo, amas, even amat, make for one less way to skin the cat
Two short planks, try my luck on another day
Must be thick as two short planks, that’s about all that I have to say
They say truth comes flooding if you let it, but what happens if I just don’t get it?
I’m blissful in my sweet ignorance and delight in my incompetence
Two short planks, try my luck on another day
Must be thick as two short planks, that’s about all that I have to say
Two short planks, pop the question, I sit the test
Must be thick as two short planks, spin me round till I come to rest
Two short planks, try my luck on another day
Must be thick as two short planks, that’s about all that I have to say
Two short planks, pop the question, I sit the test
Must be thick as two short planks, spin me round till I come to rest
Two short planks, try my luck on another day
Two short planks, that’s about all that I have to say
Two short planks, try my luck on another day
Two short planks, that’s about all that I have to say