Songtexte Dark Ages - Jethro Tull
                                                Darlings 
                                                are 
                                                you 
                                                ready 
                                                for 
                                                the 
                                                long 
                                                winter′s 
                                                fall?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Said 
                                                the 
                                                lady 
                                                in 
                                                her 
                                                parlor
 
                                    
                                
                                                Said 
                                                the 
                                                butler 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                hall.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Is 
                                                there 
                                                time 
                                                for 
                                                another?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Cried 
                                                the 
                                                drunkard 
                                                in 
                                                his 
                                                sleep.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Not 
                                                likely
 
                                    
                                
                                                Said 
                                                the 
                                                little 
                                                child. 
                                                What's 
                                                done
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                Lord 
                                                can 
                                                keep.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                vicar 
                                                stands 
                                                a-praying.
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                television 
                                                dies
 
                                    
                                
                                                As 
                                                the 
                                                white 
                                                dot 
                                                flickers 
                                                and 
                                                is 
                                                gone
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                no-one 
                                                stops 
                                                to 
                                                cry.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dark 
                                                ages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Shaking 
                                                the 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                Closed 
                                                pages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Better 
                                                not 
                                                read
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dull 
                                                rages
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                burn 
                                                in 
                                                your 
                                                head.
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                big 
                                                jet 
                                                rumbles 
                                                over 
                                                runway 
                                                miles
 
                                    
                                
                                                That 
                                                scar 
                                                the 
                                                patchwork 
                                                green
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                slick 
                                                tycoons 
                                                and 
                                                rich 
                                                buffoons
 
                                    
                                
                                                Have 
                                                opened 
                                                up 
                                                the 
                                                seam
 
                                    
                                
                                                Of 
                                                golden 
                                                nights 
                                                and 
                                                champagne 
                                                flights
 
                                    
                                
                                                Ad-man 
                                                overkill
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                haze
 
                                    
                                
                                                Consumer 
                                                crazed
 
                                    
                                
                                                We 
                                                take 
                                                the 
                                                sugar 
                                                pill.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dark 
                                                ages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Shaking 
                                                the 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                Closed 
                                                pages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Better 
                                                not 
                                                read
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dull 
                                                rages
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                burn 
                                                in 
                                                your 
                                                head
 
                                    
                                
                                                Jagged 
                                                fires 
                                                mark 
                                                the 
                                                picket 
                                                lines
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                politicians 
                                                weep
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                mealy-mouthed
 
                                    
                                
                                                Through 
                                                corridors 
                                                of 
                                                power 
                                                on 
                                                tip-toe 
                                                creep.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Come 
                                                and 
                                                see 
                                                bureaucracy
 
                                    
                                
                                                Make 
                                                its 
                                                final 
                                                heave
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                let 
                                                the 
                                                new 
                                                disorder 
                                                through
 
                                    
                                
                                                While 
                                                senses 
                                                take 
                                                their 
                                                leave.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dark 
                                                ages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Shaking 
                                                the 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                Closed 
                                                pages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Better 
                                                not 
                                                read
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dull 
                                                rages
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                burn 
                                                in 
                                                your 
                                                head
 
                                    
                                
                                                Families 
                                                screaming 
                                                line 
                                                the 
                                                streets
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                put 
                                                the 
                                                windows 
                                                through
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                corner 
                                                shops
 
                                    
                                
                                                Where 
                                                keepers 
                                                kept
 
                                    
                                
                                                The 
                                                country′s 
                                                life-blood 
                                                blue.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Take 
                                                their 
                                                pick
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                try 
                                                the 
                                                trick
 
                                    
                                
                                                With 
                                                loaves 
                                                and 
                                                fishes 
                                                shared
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                the 
                                                vicar 
                                                shouts
 
                                    
                                
                                                As 
                                                the 
                                                lights 
                                                go 
                                                out,
 
                                    
                                
                                                And 
                                                no-one 
                                                really 
                                                cares.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dark 
                                                Ages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Shaking 
                                                the 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                Closed 
                                                pages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Better 
                                                not 
                                                read
 
                                    
                                
                                                Cold 
                                                rages
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                burn 
                                                in 
                                                your 
                                                head.
 
                                    
                                
                                                Darlings 
                                                are 
                                                you 
                                                ready 
                                                for 
                                                the 
                                                long
 
                                    
                                
                                                Winter's 
                                                fall?
 
                                    
                                
                                                Said 
                                                the 
                                                lady 
                                                in 
                                                her 
                                                parlor
 
                                    
                                
                                                Said 
                                                the 
                                                butler 
                                                in 
                                                the 
                                                hall
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dark 
                                                ages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Shaking 
                                                the 
                                                dead
 
                                    
                                
                                                Closed 
                                                pages
 
                                    
                                
                                                Better 
                                                not 
                                                read
 
                                    
                                
                                                Dull 
                                                rages
 
                                    
                                
                                                They 
                                                burn
 
                                    
                                
                                                In 
                                                your 
                                                head.
 
                                    
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