Baker St Muse - Jethro Tull
Windy bus-stop Click Shop-window Heel
Shady gentleman Fly-button Feel
In the underpass the blind man stands
With cold flute hands
Symphony match-seller breath out of time
You can call me on another line
Indian restaurants that curry my brain
Newspaper warriors changing the names
They advertise from the station stand
With cold print hands
Symphony word-player I'll be your headline
If you catch me another time
Didn't make her
With my Baker Street Ruse
Couldn't shake her
With my Baker Street Bruise
Like to take her
But I'm just a Baker Street Muse
Ale-spew puddle-brew
Boys throw it up clean
Coke and Bacardi colours them green
From the typing pool goes
The mini-skirted princess with great finesse
Fertile earth-mother
Your burial mound is fifty feet down
In the Baker Street underground
(What the hell )
I didn't make her
With my Baker Street Ruse
Couldn't shake her
With my Baker Street Bruise
Like to take her
But I'm just a Baker Street Muse
Walking down the gutter thinking
"How the hell am I today "
Well I didn't really ask you
But thanks all the same
"Big bottled Fraulein
Put your weight on me "
Said the Pygmy And The Whore
Desperate for more
In his assault upon the mountain
Little man his youth a fountain
Overdrafted and still counting
Vernacular verbose;
An attempt at getting close
To where he came from
In the doorway of the stars
Between Blandford Street and Mars;
Proposition deal Flying button feel
Testicle testing
Wallet ever-bulging
Dressed to the left
Divulging the wrinkles of his years
Wedding-bell induced fears
Shedding bell-end tears
In the pocket of her resistance
International assistance flowing generous
And full to his never-ready tool
Pulls his eyes over her wool
And he shudders as he comes
And my rudder slowly turns me
Into the Marylebone Road
And here slip I
Dragging one foot in the gutter
In the midnight echo of
The shop that sells cheap radios
And there sits she
No bed no bread no butter
On a double yellow line
Where she can park anytime
Old Lady Grey; crash-barrier waltzer
Some only son's mother
Baker Street casualty
Oh Mr Policeman
Blue shirt ballet master
Feet in sticking plaster
Move the old lady on
Strange pas-de-deux
His Romeo to her Juliet
Her sleeping draught his poisoned regret
No drunken bums allowed to
Sleep here in the crowded emptiness
Oh officer let me send her to a cheap hotel
I'll pay the bill and make her well
Like hell you bloody will
No do-good over kill
We must teach them to be still more independent
I have no time for Time Magazine or Rolling Stone
I have no wish for wishing wells or wishing bones
I have no house in the country I have no motor car
And if you think I'm joking
Then I'm just a one-line joker in a public bar
And it seems there's no-body
Left for tennis; and I'm a one-band-man
And I want no Top Twenty
Funeral or a hundred grand
There was a little boy stood on a burning log
Rubbing his hands with glee
He said "Oh Mother England
Did you light my smile;
Or did you light this fire under me
One day I'll be a minstrel in the gallery
And paint you a picture of the queen
And if sometimes I sing to a cynical degree
It's just the nonsense that it seems "
So I drift down through the Baker Street valley
In my steep-sided un-reality
And when all is said and all is done
I couldn't wish for a better one
It's a real-life ripe dead certainty
That I'm just a Baker Street Muse
I talking to the gutter-stinking
Winking in the same old way
I tried to catch my eye
But I looked the other way
Indian restaurants that curry my brain
Newspaper warriors changing
The names they advertise
From the station stand
Circumcised with cold print hands
Windy bus-stop Click
Shop-window Heel
Shady gentleman
Fly-button Feel
In the underpass the blind man stands
With cold flute hands
Symphony match-seller
Breath out of time
You can call me on another line
Didn't make her
With my Baker Street Ruse
Couldn't shake her
With my Baker Street Bruise
Like to take her
But I'm just a Baker Street Muse
I'm just a Baker Street Muse
Just a Baker Street Muse
Just a Baker Street Muse
I'm just a Baker Street Muse
I can't get out