Text: Jethro Tull. Beside Myself.
Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you hear him, can you hear him?
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you see him cry, see him cry?
I'm beside myself.
I saw you taking money in the shadows
in the shadows by the station there.
I'll wish you up a silver train
to carry you to school, bring you home again.
Strip off that work paint and put a cleaner face on.
I'm beside myself.
Hollow faced mother with her babe in arms,
babe in arms-looks through me.
Behind forgotten charms,
forgotten charms to soothe me.
Between the guilt and charity
I feel the wimp inside of me.
I'm beside myself.
Out in the middle distance, still more tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
I'm so proud of you
Swimming up from the deep blue.
Which one of me do you run to?
I'm beside myself.
Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, have no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you hear him, can you hear him?
I'm beside myself.
Big sister, can you see him cry, see him cry?
I'm beside myself.
I saw you taking money in the shadows
in the shadows by the station there.
I'll wish you up a silver train
to carry you to school, bring you home again.
Strip off that work paint and put a cleaner face on.
I'm beside myself.
Hollow faced mother with her babe in arms,
babe in arms-looks through me.
Behind forgotten charms,
forgotten charms to soothe me.
Between the guilt and charity
I feel the wimp inside of me.
I'm beside myself.
Out in the middle distance, still more tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
I'm so proud of you
Swimming up from the deep blue.
Which one of me do you run to?
I'm beside myself.
Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay.
Cities like this have no shame, have no shame;
indeed, why should they?
Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing.
I'm beside myself.
Jethro Tull