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 armys up the rode Salvation a la mode and A cup of tea. Aqualung my friend Dont start away uneasy You poor old sod, you see, its only me. Do you still remember Decembers 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. 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 armys up the rode Salvation a la mode and A cup of tea. Aqualung my friend Dont start away uneasy You poor old sod, you see, its only me. Aqualung my friend Dont start away uneasy You poor old sod, you see, its only me. 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. - Jerry Man -
Posted on: Mon, 18 Aug 2014 20:04:40 +0000