Hope everybody's ringing on their own bell, this fine morning
Hope everyone's connected to that long distance phone
Old man, he's a mountain
Old man, he's an island
Old man, he's a-waking - says,
"I'm going to call, call all my children home"
Hope everybody's dancing to their own drum this fine morning -
the beat of distant Africa or a Polish factory town
Old man, he's calling for his supper
he's calling for his whisky
Calling for his sons and daughters, yeah -
calling, calling all his children round
Sharp ears are tuned in to the drones and chanters warming
Mist blowing round some headland, somewhere in your memory
Everyone is from somewhere -
even if you've never been there
So take a minute to remember the part of you
that might be the old man calling me
How many wars you fighting out there, this winter's morning?
Maybe there's always time for another Christmas song
Old man, he's asleep now
Got appointments to keep now
Dreaming of his sons and daughters and proving,
proving that the blood is strong
written by Ian Anderson
performed by Jethro Tull
I couldn't find the original from the album Rock Island (1989), this version is a bit smooth and too peaceful for my taste. It doesn't fit the lyrics as good as the other one. Still (and always) in love with Ian's flute though.
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