Testi:
Jethro Tull Ian Anderson The Secret Language Of Birds

I see you better now, shaded in deeper blue. Hardly needing to carry the find-your-way lamp down to the river. Tonight flies a better moon. Sad water

Pick up my wings and fly into a Constable sky. Look down on the world and try to make you out on the distant ground. Lonely toy in a lost toy-town

Night close in on a shanty town. Panama freighter wearing rusty brown. She sails tomorrow and she's homeward bound. Head up on a lumpy sea. I'm not

Hard black crows bobbing where once ran deep furrows. Frazzled oak silhouetted in her ivy dress. Winter sun catches dog fox through thin hedges: throws

Down at the church the flower girl sits. Legs innocent, apart. I make the picture puzzle fit to start your heart. Painted sister stopped beside. A

(Instrumental)

Crystal fountain springing from the hill. It irrigates your soul. You may drink your fill. Water of life, carried high. One hand upon the gallon jar

I know the feeling. Seems all too contrived. There was no master plan but the fact is: you must stay with me and learn the secret language of birds.

: Fires on the mountain, and the dogs bark. Crash of the ocean swelling: crickets in the dark. The temperature is rising. The village gets no sleep