Paroles de la chanson Minstrel In The Gallery par Jethro Tull

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Paroles de la chanson Minstrel In The Gallery par Jethro Tull

(My lord and lady, we have – fortuitously happened upon these, er, strolling players, who will provide you with, er, goodly tunes whilst you set about your, errr, prandial delights, albeit in the lamentable absence of your guests. So, my lord and lady, for your entertainment!)
['So we're going to through with this?' 'Yeahh, suppose we better had. I can't see down there all right. I don't think they're going to like this much though.']

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes observed the spaces
Between the old men's cackle

He brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
Freshly day-glow'd factory cheaters
Salaried and collar-scrubbing
He titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing

On the parts they never mention
He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating
One-line jokers, T.V. documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers

Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called (and he called) the band down to the stage

And he looked at all the friends he'd made

[Instrumental interlude]

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, observed the spaces
In-between the old men's cackle

Then he brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions, and he waited
He polarised the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters
The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
Then he threw away his looking-glass
Saw his face in everyone
(Hey!)

He titillated men of action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts they never mention
Salaried and collar-scrubbing
(Yeah)

He pacified the nappy-suffering
Infant-bleating, one-line jokers
T.V. documentary makers
Overfed and undertakers

Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run

Then he threw away his looking-glass
And saw his face in everyone
(Hey!)
The minstrel in the gallery, ye-e-es
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes, yeah
Mm, the minstrel in the gallery

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