Jethro Tull - Aqualung (Aqualung - 1971) | Текст песни

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• Jethro Tull
• Aqualung (Aqualung - 1971)

Sitting on a park bench
Eyeing little girls with bad intent
Snot running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes

Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck

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 rode
Salvation a 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
The december's foggy freeze?
When the ice that clings on to your beard
Is screaming agony

And you snatch your rattling last breaths
With deep sea diver sounds
And the flowers bloom like
Madness in the spring

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