Too Old to Rock 'n' Roll (Remastered) - Jethro Tull

The old rocker wore his hair too long

Wore his trouser cuffs too tight

Unfashionable to the end

Drank his ale too light

Death's head belt buckle, yesterday's dreams

The transport caf', prophet of doom

Ringing no change in his double-sewn seams

In his post-war-babe gloom

Now he's too old to rock and roll

But he's too young to die

Yes he's too old to rock and roll

But he's too young to die

He once owned a Harley Davidson

And a Triumph Bonneville

Counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs

Prays that he always will

But he's the last of the blue blood's greaser boys

And all his mates are doing time

Married with three kids up by the ring road

Sold their souls straight down the line

And some of them own little sports cars

And meet at the tennis club do's

For drinks on a Sunday, work on Monday

They've thrown away their blue suede shoes

Now they're too old to rock and roll

And they're too young to die

Yes they're too old to rock and roll

And they're too young to die

So the old rocker gets out his bike

To make a ton before he takes his leave

Up on the A1 by Scotch Corner

Just like it used to be

And as he flies, tears in his eyes

His wind-whipped words echo the final take

And he hits the trunk road doing around a hundred and twenty

With no room left to brake

And he was too old to rock and roll

And he was too young to die

No he was too old to rock and roll

And he was too young to die

No, you're never too old to rock and roll

If you're too young to die

And no you're never too old to rock and roll

But he was too young too die