Jethro Tull - Old Aces Die Hard

Light it is fading along the green belt
As the millions weep for their children
Sitting detached in the suburban-ness
As politics brew in the cauldron.

Dark ages, spilling no secrets from the old
House of cards
That stands immune as the great disease rages
Through the pack stacked with jokers.
Old aces die hard.

And mother superior calls for the light
To mark heaven's request for repentance.
But the football crowds mutter and pray for the night,
And march to their doom with acceptance.

Dark ages, plant their last seed on the
Withering land
To grow in the dust of yesterday's images
Underwritten by the pen of history's hand

And the blue dawn cracks on the morn
Of another day, ten thousand years away.
And the seeds that were sown
Into young men have grown.
Fathers to their youngest son to place
In the camp fire's sight, dead as the night
That he can't quite recall.
He can't quite recall.

When he dreams in his head with the stones
In his bed and the shouts of the sun as it falls.
And the women wake and they laugh
As they shake
Their frosty sleep from their hair,
And put that same old kettle on and sing that
Same old pagan song.

Dark ages, history karma is rattling its chains.
Dark ages, civilisation's menstrual pains.

The bone's in the china, the flat's in the fire,
There's no turkey left on the table.
The commuters return on the six o'clock flyer.
Brings no bale of straw for the stable.

Dark ages, spilling no secrets from the old
House of cards
That stands immune as the great disease rages
Through the pack stacked with jokers.
Old aces die hard.

Dark ages, spilling no secrets from the old
House of cards
That stands immune as the great disease rages
Through the pack stacked with jokers.
Old aces die hard.