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Lyrics for 'Wind Up' by 'Jethro Tull'
When I Was Young And They Packed Me Off To School
And Taught Me How Not To Play The Game,
I Didn't Mind If They Groomed Me For Success,
Or If They Said That I Was A Fool.
So I Left There In The Morning
With Their God Tucked Underneath My Arm --
Their Half-assed Smiles And The Book Of Rules.
So I Asked This God A Question
And By Way Of Firm Reply,
He Said -- I'm Not The Kind You Have To Wind Up On Sundays.
So To My Old Headmaster (and To Anyone Who Cares):
Before I'm Through I'd Like To Say My Prayers --
I Don't Believe You:
You Had The Whole Damn Thing All Wrong --
He's Not The Kind You Have To Wind Up On Sundays.
Well You Can Excomunicate Me On My Way To Sunday School
And Have All The Bishops Harmonize These Lines --
How Do You Dare Tell Me That I'm My Father's Son
When That Was Just An Accident Of Birth.
I'd Rather Look Around Me -- Compose A Better Song
`cos That's The Honest Measure Of My Worth.
In Your Pomp And All Your Glory You're A Poorer Man Than Me,
As You Lick The Boots Of Death Born Out Of Fear.
I Don't Believe You:
You Had The Whole Damn Thing All Wrong --
He's Not The Kind You Have To Wind Up On Sundays.
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