Sun streaking cold
An old man wandering lonely
Taking time the only way he knowsSitting on a park bench
Eyeing little girls with bad intent
Snot running down his nose
Greasy fingers smearing shabby clothes
Oh Aquadon
He's dying in the cold sun
Watching as the braypipe pansies run
Oh Aquadon
And feeling like a dead duck
Spitting out pieces of his broken luck
Oh Aquadon
Sun streaking cold
An old man wandering lonely
Taking time the only way he knows
Leg hurting bad as he plans to pick a dog-end
He goes down to the bog and warms his feet
Feeling alone, the army's up the road
Starvation a la mode and a cup of tea
Aquadon my friend
Don't you stir away uneasy
You poor old sod you see
It's only me
It's only me
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