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  • 作词 : Anderson, Anderson
    Sitting on a park bench --
    aqualung
    eyeing ittle 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.
    Jethro Tull
    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 --
    salvation a la mode and
    a cup of tea.
    Aqualung my friend --
    don't 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 is
    screaming agony.
    And you snatch your rattling last breaths
    with deep-sea-diver sounds,
    and the flowers bloom like
    madness in the spring.
  • 作词 : Anderson, Anderson
    Sitting on a park bench --
    aqualung
    eyeing ittle 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.
    Jethro Tull
    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 --
    salvation a la mode and
    a cup of tea.
    Aqualung my friend --
    don't 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 is
    screaming agony.
    And you snatch your rattling last breaths
    with deep-sea-diver sounds,
    and the flowers bloom like
    madness in the spring.