| Disc 1 | ||||||
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| 1. |
| 4:21 | 
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In the morning gonna get my things together
Packing up and I'm leaving this place I don't believe you'll cry There'll be a smile upon your face I didn't think how much you'd hurt me That's something that I laugh about Bring in the good times, baby And let the bad times out That old sun keeps on shining But someday it won't shine for you In the morning I'll be leaving I'll leave your mother too |
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| 2. |
| 3:31 | 
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| 3. |
| 4:57 |
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| 4. |
| 6:33 |
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In days of peace
sweet smelling summer nights of wine and song; dusty pavements burning feet. Why am I crying, I want to know. How can I smile and make it right? For sixty days and eighty nights and not give in and lose the fight. I'm going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go and with you there to help me then it probably will. I won't go down acting the same old play. Give sixty days for just one night. Don't think I'd make it: but then I might. I'm going back to the ones that I know, with whom I can be what I want to be. Just one week for the feeling to go and with you there to help me then it probably will. |
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| 5. |
| 4:28 |
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| 6. |
| 2:38 |
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| 7. |
| 5:31 |
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One day I walked the road
And crossed a field to go By where the hounds ran hard. And on the master raced, Behind the hunters chased To where the path was barred. One fine young lady's horse refused the fence to clear. I unlocked the gate but she did wait until the pack had disappeared. Crop handle carved in bone, Sat high upon a throne Of finest English leather. The queen of all the pack, This joker raised his hat And talked about the weather. All should be warned about this high born Hunting Girl. She took this simple man's downfall in hand, I raised the flag that she unfurled. Boot leather flashing and spurnecks the size of my thumb. This highborn hunter had tastes as strange as they come. Unbridled passion, I took the bit in my teeth. Her standing over, me on my knees underneath, underneath. My lady, be discrete, I must get to my feet And go back to the farm. Whilst I appreciate You are no deviate, I might come to some harm. I'm not inclined to acts refined, if that's how it goes. Oh, high born Hunting Girl, I'm just a normal low born so and so. |
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| 8. |
| 3:40 |
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| 9. |
| 4:44 |
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It's a wide world out there
So much wider than imagined I can't quite put my finger on the pulse Of your heart softly beating Just beneath the raw silk sheen That reflects the tints of autumn from the hills. So punch my name. And in case you wonder - I'll be yours - yours, dot com. Executive accommodation Bland but nonetheless appealing Waiters discretely at your beck and call Place the tall sun-down potion Lightly by your velvet elbow While you compose a message on the wall. So punch my name. And in case you wonder - I'll be yours - yours, dot com. With your handmade leather valise Packed and ready, ready waiting Showered and dressed down lightly for the heat Gice a clue; leave a kind word Hint as to a destination A domain where our cyber-souls might meet. So punch my name. And in case you wonder - I'll be yours - yours, dot com. |
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| 10. |
| 5:00 |
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| 11. |
| 5:26 |
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Don't want to be a fat man
People would think that I was just good fun, man Would rather be a thin man I am so glad to go on being one, man Too much to carry around with you No chance of finding a woman, who Will love you in the morning and all the nighttime too Don't want to be a fat man Have not the patience to ignore all that Hate to admit to myself I thought my problems came from being fat Won't waste my time feeling sorry for him I've seen the other side to being thin Roll us both down a mountain and I'm sure the fat man would win |
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| Disc 2 | ||||||
| 1. |
| 6:59 |
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Happy, and I'm smiling, walk a mile to drink your water.
You know I'd love to love you, and above you there's no other We'll go walking out while others shout of war's disaster. Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. Once I'd used to join in every boy and girl was my friend. Now there's revolution but they don't know what they're fighting. Let us close our eyes. Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in, we'll keep living in the past. Oh, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. Oh, no, no, we won't give in, let's go living in the past. |
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| 2. |
| 5:10 |
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Nothing is easy.
Though time gets you worrying My friend, it's OK. Just take your life easy And stop all that hurrying, Be happy my way. When tension starts mounting And you've lost count Of the pennies you've missed, Just try hard and see why they're not worrying me, They're last on my list. Nothing's easy. Nothing is easy, you'll find That the squeeze won't turn out so bad. Your fingers may freeze, worse things happen at sea, There's good times to be had. So if you're alone and you're down to the bone, Just give us a play. You'll smile in a while and discover That I'll get you happy my way Nothing's easy. |
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| 3. |
| 6:39 |
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Small child messing down, messing down.
in the streets of Bombay. Cities like this have no shame, no shame; indeed, why should they? Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing. I'm beside myself. Big sister, can you hear him, can you hear him? I'm beside myself. Big sister, can you see him cry, see him cry? I'm beside myself. I saw you taking money in the shadows -- in the shadows by the station there. I'll wish you up a silver train to carry you to school, bring you home again. Strip off that work paint and put a cleaner face on. I'm beside myself. Hollow faced mother with her babe in arms, babe in arms-looks through me. Behind forgotten charms, forgotten charms to soothe me. Between the guilt and charity -- I feel the wimp inside of me. I'm beside myself. Out in the middle distance, still more tragedies are playing. I'm beside myself. I'm so proud of you -- Swimming up from the deep blue. Which one of me do you run to? I'm beside myself. Small child messing down, messing down. in the streets of Bombay. Cities like this have no shame, have no shame; indeed, why should they? Out in the middle distance, several tragedies are playing. I'm beside myself. |
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| 4. |
| 8:30 |
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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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| 5. |
| 11:29 |
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I think she was a middle-distance runner...
(the translation wasn't clear). Could be a budding stately hero. International competition in a year. She was a good enough reason for a party... (well, you couldn't keep up on a hard track mile) while she ran a perfect circle. And she wore a perfect smile in Budapest... hot night in Budapest. We had to cozzy up in the old gymnasium... dusting off the mandolins and checking on the gear. She was helping out at the back-stage... stopping hearts and chilling beer. Yes, and her legs went on for ever. Like staring up at infinity through a wisp of cotton panty along a skin of satin sea. Hot night in Budapest. You could cut the heat, peel it back with the wrong side of a knife. Feel it blowing from the sidefills. Feel like you were playing for your life (if not the money). Hot night in Budapest. She bent down to fill the ice box and stuffed some more warm white wine in like some weird unearthly vision wearing only T-shirt, pants and skin. You know, it rippled, just a hint of muscle. But the boys and me were heading west so we left her to the late crew and a hot night in Budapest. It was a hot night in Budapest. She didn't speak much English language... (she didn't speak much anyway). She wouldn't make love, but she could make good sandwich and she poured sweet wine before we played. Hey, Budapest, cha, cha, cha. Let's watch her now. I thought I saw her at the late night restaurant. She would have sent blue shivers down the wall. But she didn't grace our table. In fact, she wasn't there at all. Yes, and her legs went on forever. Like staring up at infinity. Her heart was spinning to the west-lands and she didn't care to be that night in Budapest. Hot night in Budapest. |
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| 6. |
| 1:27 |
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| 7. |
| 8:02 |
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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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| 8. |
| 8:37 |
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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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