General Crossing - Jethro Tull

It’s an old profession

Of subtle artillery

Rough wheels meshing ---

Button out, button in

The tall General will mine

A few bridges tonight

Stroking soft machinery

Fanfare at dawn

Courting green steel

Lined up for World War One

(Two, Three, Four)

It’s an old profession

Of subtle artillery

Rough wheels meshing ---

On a landscape with no trees

The tall General points

To the distance ---

Disconnects his power supply

Writes a stiff note to his nearest

And dearest ---

He takes the battle plan

And contemplates his fly

The tall General

Flies by the seat of history

The tall General

Is crossing

The tall General

He thinks inevitability

The tall General

Is definitely crossing

With spit and with polish ---

Time for desperate measures

The pain in the forehead

From holding up to the pressures

Of life on the rim

Of the convenient alliance

Out on the rim ---

Let me out on the rim

The tall General will walk

Across the compound

With his briefcase and I. D

Later they’ll post him

Seemingly missing ---

He’s gone to be a Generalski