Acres Wild - Jethro Tull

I’ll make love to you

In all good places

Under black mountains

In open spaces

By deep brown rivers

That slither darkly

Through far marches

Where the blue hare races

Come with me to the Winged Isle

Northern father’s western child

Where the dance of ages is playing still

Through far marches of acres wild

I’ll make love to you

In narrow side streets

With shuttered windows

Crumbling chimneys

Come with me to the weary town

Discos silent under tiles

That slide from roof-tops, scatter softly

On concrete marches of acres wild

By red bricks pointed

With cement fingers

Flaking damply

From sagging shoulders

Come with me to the Winged Isle

Northern father’s western child

Where the dance of ages is playing still

Through far marches of acres wild