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 à 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...
yes, great play!!
ReplyDeleteI say,
ReplyDeleteCrazy play old chap!
I say
For my Italian firends,
ReplyDeleteDo you still remember RADIO CITTA' di Bologna?!?!?
If yes, well, this is for you!
Good going Niko. Great pick! ...thank you for sharing. Hugs, Rhonda
ReplyDeleteI love this song!
ReplyDeleteI just pulled out the CD and am listening to it now!
great song
ReplyDeletea great song meaning the goodbye for a lost generation
ReplyDeleteMan this just pulled some lost memories back into mind
ReplyDelete