Sitting on a park bench
Eyeing idle girls with bad intent.
Snot running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes.
Aqualung my friend, don't you start away uneasy
Drying in the cold sun
Watching as the frilly panties run.
Aqualung my friend
Feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck.
Aqualung my friend, don't you start away uneasy.
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 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 streaming 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
Ohohoho
Feeling alone
The army's up the road
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.
Anybody remember the Arte Johnson character on Laugh In that Ruth Buzzi has to whack when he approaches her on the park bench? That’s the first thing I thought of.