The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
He met the gazes observed the spaces
In between the old men's cackle

And he brewed a song of love and hatred
Oblique suggestions and he waited
He polarized the pumpkin-eaters
Static-humming panel-beaters

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down on the rabbit-run
And threw away his looking-glass
Saw his face in everyone

Hey, he titillated the men-of-action
Belly warming, hands still rubbing
On the parts that they never mention
Salaried and collar-scrubbing

He pacified the nappy-suffering, infant-bleating, one-line jokers
T.V. documentary makers, overfed and undertakers

Sunday paper backgammon players
Family-scarred and women-haters
Then he called the band down to the stage
And he looked at all the friends he'd made

The minstrel in the gallery
I looked down on the rabbit-run
And threw away his looking-glass
And saw his face in everyone

Hey

The minstrel in the gallery
Looked down upon the smiling faces
Met the gazes

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): IAN ANDERSON, MARTIN BARRE