Aqualung

Tom: Em

Em            D                        A
Sun streaking cold an old man wandring lonely,
Am              Em          D
taking time the only way he knows.
Em           D                         A
Legs hurting bad as he bends to pick a dog end .
 Am              Em                D
He goes down to the bog and warms his feet.
Em                D             A
Feeling alone the army's up the road,
Am           Em                D
salvation a la mode and a cup of tea.
Em          D                             A  
Aqualung my friend, don't you  start away uneasy.
    Am          Em            F 
You poor old sod see it's only me.
Em               D                 Em
Do you still remember Decembers foggy freeze
                       D
when the ice that clings onto your beard
            Em
was screaming agony?
             D                        Em
And your ratling last breaths with deepseadiver sounds
Am                        D
and the flowers bloom like madness in the spring.