Ian Anderson
The Foot of Our Stairs
We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door
Eat in the corner, talk to the floor
Cheating the spiders who come to say "Please", (politely)
They bend at the knees
Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs
Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
Of ladies lost, of erring sons
Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
Pure as the truth, tied at both ends
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs
Scented cathedral spire pointed down
We pray for souls in Kentish Town
A delicate hush
The gods, floating by
Wishing us well
Pie in the sky
God of Ages, Lord of Time
Mine is the right, right to be wrong
Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs
Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed)
Show me a good man and I'll show you the door
The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."

Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done
I've put in a request to take up my turn
In that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
Where no-one has nothing and nothing is- well -meaning fool
Pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling
Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do