Aqualung - Jethro Tull

Artist: Jethro Tull
Song: Aqualung
Year: 1971
Album: Aqualung

This song brings back memories of high school. I would sometimes bring a pocket radio with headphones to school. I would listen to the classic rock station while walking to and from school. It was usually a half hour walk each way, so I was able to listen to quite a bit of programming.

As a freshman, I think the station was on a Jethro Tull kick. I would hear "Aqualung", "Locomotive Breath" or "Bungle In The Jungle" at least once a day. One of those and Jimi Hendrix's "Purple Haze" would be played every school day.

I liked the unique song structure of "Aqualung", but what captured my attention as a rapidly growing teen was the line about the frilly panties. Hormones can run wild in teens and I was no exception. Thankfully, the song was much more memorable than that.

It had been just slightly over a year since Jethro Tull's grammy win for best metal album. I had come to the realization that the win wasn't Jethro Tull's fault. It was whoever voted. I made my peace with Metallica losing to Jethro Tull a long time ago. Life too short to hold grudges and to deprive yourself of good music.

Lyrics:
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.
Neck 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 à 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.
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.
Neck 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 à 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.

[Guitar Solo]

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!