| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 7:56 | 
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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 Whoa, 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 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 onto your beard was Screaming agony? Hey! 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 Ohh Feeling alone The army's up the road 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 Ohh Dee dee dee dee dee... 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 Hey, Aqualung Whoa, Aqualung |
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| 2. |
| 4:35 | 
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| 3. |
| 1:43 |
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On Preston Platform
Do your soft shoe shuffle dance Brush away the cigarette ash That's falling down your pants And then you sadly wonder Does the nurse treat your old man The way she should? She made you tea Asked for your autograph-- What a laugh |
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| 4. |
| 5:39 |
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As I did walk by Hampstead Fair,
I came upon Mother Goose, So I turned her loose-- She was screaming. And a foreign student said to me Was it really true There are elephants, lions too, Piccadilly Circus? Walked down by the bathing pond To try and catch some sun. Saw at least a hundred school girls Sobbing into handkerchiefs as one. I don't believe they knew I was a schoolboy. And a bearded lady said to me If you start your raving And your misbehaving, You'll be sorry. And the chicken fancier came to play With his long red beard, And his sister's weird-- She drives a lorry. Laughed down by the putting green, I popped 'em in their holes. Four and twenty labourers were labouring And digging up their gold. I don't believe they knew That I was Long John Silver. Saw Johnny Scarecrow make his rounds In his jet black mac Which he won't give back-- Stole it from a snowman. As I did walk by Hampstead Fair, I came upon Mother Goose, So I turned her loose-- She was screaming. Walked down by the bathing pond To try and catch some sun. Must have been least a hundred school girls Sobbing into handkerchiefs as one. I don't believe they knew I was a schoolboy. |
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| 5. |
| 2:00 |
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Wond'ring aloud --
How we feel today. Last night sipped the sunset -- My hands in her hair. We are our own saviours As we start both our hearts beating life Into each other. Wond'ring aloud -- Will the years treat us well. As she floats in the kitchen, I'm tasting the smell Of toast as the butter runs. Then she comes, spilling crumbs on the bed And I shake my head. And it's only the giving That makes you what you are. |
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| 6. |
| 3:36 |
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Take her to the cinema
And leave you in a Wimpy bar You tell me that we've gone too far Come running up to me Make the scene at cousin Jack's Leave him to put the bottles back Mends his glasses that I cracked Well that one's up to me, hey Oh, it's up to me It's up to me I buy a silver cloud to ride Pack the tennis club inside Trouser cuffs hung far too wide Well, it was up to me Tyres down on your bicycle Your nose feels like an icicle The yellow fingered smoky girl Is looking up to me, yeah Whoa, you know it's up to me, yeah Well I'm a common working man With a half of bitter, bread and jam And if it pleases me I'll put one on you, man When the cuppa fades away Whoa, it's up to me Whoa, I said, it's up to me, yeah The rainy season comes to pass The day-glo pirate sinks at last And if I laughed a bit too fast Well, it was up to me Take you to the cinema And leave you in a Wimpy bar You tell me that we've gone too far Come running up to me, hey Whoa, you know it's up to me, yeah I said it's up to me, yeah |
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| 7. |
| 8:27 |
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People what have you done?
Locked Him in His golden cage Golden cage Made Him bend to your religion Him resurrected from the grave From the grave He is the God of nothing If that’s all that you can see You are the God of everything He’s inside you and me So lean upon Him gently And don't call on Him to save You from your social graces And the sins you used to waive You used to waive The bloody Church of England In chains of history Requests your earthly presence At the vicarage for tea And the graven image You know who With his plastic crucifix He's got Him fixed Confuses me as to who and where and why As to how he gets his kicks He gets his kicks. Confessing to the endless sin With endless whining sounds You'll be praying 'til next Thursday To all the gods that you can count |
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| 8. |
| 4:22 |
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Our Father high in heaven, smile down upon your son
Who is busy with his money games - his women and his gun Oh Jesus save me And the unsung western hero, he killed an Indian or three And then he made his name in Hollywood to set the white man free Oh Jesus save me If Jesus saves, well he better save himself From the gory glory seekers who use his name in death Oh Jesus save me If Jesus saves, well he better save himself From the gory glory seekers who use his name in death Oh Jesus save me Well I saw him in the city, and on the mountains of the moon His cross was rather bloody, and he could hardly roll his stone Oh Jesus save me |
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| 9. |
| 1:00 |
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Well, the lush separation unfolds you
And the products of wealth Push you along on the bow wave Of their spiritless undying selves And you press on God's waiter your last dime As he hands you the bill And you spin in the slipstream Timeless, unreasoning Paddle right out of the mess And you paddle right out of the mess |
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| 10. |
| 5:20 |
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In the shuffling madness
Of the locomotive breath Runs the all time loser Headlong to his death Oh, he feels the pistons screaming Steam breaking on his brow Old Charlie stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down He sees his children jumpin’ off At stations one by one His woman and his best friend In bed and having fun So he's crawling down the corridor On his hands and knees Old Charlie stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down He hears the silence howling Catches angels as they fall And the all time winner Has got him by the balls Oh, he picks up Gideon's Bible Open at page one I think God, he stole the handle And the train it won't stop going No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down No way to slow down |
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| 11. |
| 6:41 |
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When I was young and they packed me off to school
And taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool. So I left there in the morning With their God tucked underneath my arm Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules And I asked this God a question And by way of firm reply He said, “I'm not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays” So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares) Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers I don't believe you You had the whole damn thing all wrong He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays. Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school And have all the bishops harmonize these lines How do you dare tell me that I'm my Father's son? When that was just an accident of birth I'd rather look around me, compose a better song 'Cos that's the honest measure of my worth In your pomp and all your glory you're a poorer man than me As you lick the boots of death born out of fear When I was young and they packed me off to school And taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool I left there in the morning With their God under my arm Their half-assed smiles and the book of rules Well, you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school Have all the bishops harmonize these lines When I was young and they packed me off to school And they taught me how not to play the game I didn't mind if they groomed me for success Or if they said that I was just a fool So to my old headmaster (and to anyone who cares) Before I'm through I'd like to say my prayers Well you can excommunicate me on my way to Sunday school And have all the bishops harmonize these lines I don't believe you You had the whole damn thing all wrong He's not the kind you have to wind up on Sundays |
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| 12. |
| 1:27 |
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| 13. |
| 2:06 |
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| 14. |
| 1:18 |
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| 15. |
| 0:35 |
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| 16. |
| 1:02 |
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| 17. |
| 1:43 |
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