It seems quite clear I'll have to pay
for hours of missing sleep
Beyond the pale and far away...
my bride begins to weep
and cries for nights of empty beds
and husbands far from here
With Procol's tunes inside their heads
the children disappear
Nothing's gonna make me choose
I'll just find a good excuse
late-night surfing beats the news
Jens and Roland don't charge dues
I went online, and my-oh-my
my sleepy eyes were stunned
and now I'm in an awful state
I'm starting to be shunned
But just before
I click 'what's new'
I know there's something
I should do
I fed the cat, I sheared the sheep
who really needs to get some sleep?
Is it today or yesterday?
Or is it just a dream?
I'll have to work to earn my pay
excuse me while I scream
And screaming just can't shake it loose
this spell that's got me high
Not Jethro Tull, not Moody Blues
Its Procol, do-or-die.
Give me just one hundred proof
music that restores my youth
not so long-in-the-tooth
Rock on, guys - let's have some truth