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Lyrics for 'Old Ghosts' by 'Jethro Tull'
Hair Stands High On The Cat's Back Like
A Ridge Of Threatening Hills.
Sheepdogs Howl, Make Tracks And Growl ---
Their Tails Hanging Low.
And Young Children Falter In Their Games
At The Altar Of Life's Hide-and-seek
Between Tall Pillars, Where Sunday-night Killers
In Grey Raincoats Peek.
Misty Colours Unfold A Backcloth Cold ---
Fine Tapestry Of Silk
I Draw Around Me Like A Cloak
And Soundless Glide A-drifting
On Eddies Whirled In Beech Leaves Furled ---
Brown And Gold They Fly
In The Warm Mesh Of Sunlight
Sifting Now From A Cloudless Sky.
I'll Be Coming Again Like An Old Dog In Pain
Blown Through The Eye Of The Hurricane
Down To The Stones Where Old Ghosts Play.
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