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  • 作词 : Ian Anderson
    作曲 : Ian Anderson
    Everybody's jumping on the circus train
    Some jump high, some jump off again
    And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled
    All truths to light, all crosses nailed
    Aiming high where the eagle circles
    Where he keeps his tail feathers clean
    And wonders am I still a free bird
    Or just a part of the machine
    They hitch their covered wagons and they roll out west
    Politics in the pockets of their Sunday best
    Shaking hands, kissing babies for all that they're worth
    Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth
    Still, that old bald eagle circles
    It's not the first time that he's seen
    His reflection in the eyes of innocence
    He's become just another part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    I wish I had an eagle like you
    To look up to
    He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky
    Up above the whole machine
    Part of the machine
    Smart guys aren't running, they're home and dry
    Up in the mountains where the eagle flies
    They wouldn't take that job offered on a plate
    They gotta fly with the eagle and he won't wait
    Looking down on the smoke and the factories
    'Til the truth creeps up unseen
    They see themselves in the faces of their children
    And realize they too are part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    I wish I had an eagle like you
    To wake up to
    He could be my wings to fly
    In a big bird sky
    Hey, let's be part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    Part of the machine
  • 作词 : Ian Anderson
    作曲 : Ian Anderson
    Everybody's jumping on the circus train
    Some jump high, some jump off again
    And the razzmatazz is rolling, women folk unveiled
    All truths to light, all crosses nailed
    Aiming high where the eagle circles
    Where he keeps his tail feathers clean
    And wonders am I still a free bird
    Or just a part of the machine
    They hitch their covered wagons and they roll out west
    Politics in the pockets of their Sunday best
    Shaking hands, kissing babies for all that they're worth
    Oh, they promise you gold, promise heaven on earth
    Still, that old bald eagle circles
    It's not the first time that he's seen
    His reflection in the eyes of innocence
    He's become just another part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    I wish I had an eagle like you
    To look up to
    He could be my wings to fly in a big bird sky
    Up above the whole machine
    Part of the machine
    Smart guys aren't running, they're home and dry
    Up in the mountains where the eagle flies
    They wouldn't take that job offered on a plate
    They gotta fly with the eagle and he won't wait
    Looking down on the smoke and the factories
    'Til the truth creeps up unseen
    They see themselves in the faces of their children
    And realize they too are part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    I wish I had an eagle like you
    To wake up to
    He could be my wings to fly
    In a big bird sky
    Hey, let's be part of the machine
    Part of the machine
    Part of the machine