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Aqualung

Jethro Tull
Lingua: Inglese



Sitting on a park bench
eyeing little girls with bad intents.
Snot 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,
Oh, 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 à la mode
and a cup of tea.
Aqualung, my friend
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.

Do you still remember
December's foggy freeze
when 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 à la mode
and a cup of tea.
Aqualung my friend
don't you start away uneasy
you poor old sod, you see, it's only me.


Aqualung, my friend
don't you 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 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,
oh Aqualung.


Oh, Aqualung.


Pagina principale CCG

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