Sitting on a park bench eyeing little girls with bad intent. Snot is running down his nose greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes. Hey Aqualung! Drying in the cold sun Watching as the frilly panties run. Hey Aqualung! Feeling like a dead duck spitting out pieces of his broken luck. Hey Aqualung!
Sun streaking cold an old man wandering lonely. Taking time the only way he knows. Leg hurting bad, as he bends to pick a dog end he goes down to the bog and warms his feet. Feeling alone the army's up the road salvation a la mode and a cup of tea. Aqualung my friend don't ya start away uneasy you poor old sod you see it's only me.
Do you still remember December's foggy freeze and the ice that clings on to your beard was screaming agony. And you snatch your rattling last breaths with deep-sea diver sounds, and the flowers bloom like madness in the spring.
Sun streaking cold an old man wandering lonely. Taking time the only way he knows. Leg hurting bad, as he bends to pick a dog end he goes down to the bog and warms his feet. Feeling alone the army's up the road salvation a la mode and a cup of tea. Aqualung my friend don't ya start away uneasy you poor old sod you see it's only me.
Sitting on a park bench eyeing little girls with bad intent. Snot is running down his nose greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes. Hey Aqualung! Drying in the cold sun Watching as the frilly panties run. Hey Aqualung! Feeling like a dead duck spitting out pieces of his broken luck. Hey Aqualung!
Oh, Aqualung.
Compositores: Ian Scott Anderson (Ian Anderson) (PRS), Jennifer Price (Anderson Jennie) (ASCAP)Editor: Anderson Ian Music Ltd (PRS)Administração: Butterfly Music Ltd (PRS)Publicado em 2010 (11/Jun) e lançado em 1971ECAD verificado obra #6453719 e fonograma #1741695 em 10/Abr/2024