The old rocker wore his hair too long, wore his trouser cuffs too tight. unfashionable to the end --- drank his ale too light. deaths head belt buckle --- yesterdays dreams --- the transport c
Rophet of doom. ringing no change in his double-sewn seams in his post-war-babe gloom. now hes too old to rocknroll but hes too young to die. he once owned a harley davidson and a triumph bo
Lle. counted his friends in burned-out spark plugs and prays that he always will. but hes the last of the blue blood greaser boys all of his mates are doing time: married with three kids up by
Ing road sold their souls straight down the line. and some of them own little sports cars and meet at the tennis club dos. for drinks on a sunday --- work on monday. theyve thrown away their b
Uede shoes. now theyre too old to rocknroll and theyre too young to die. so the old rocker gets out his bike to make a ton before he takes his leave. up on the a1 by scotch corner just like
Ed to be. and as he flies ---
Tears in his eyes --- his wind-whipped words echo the final take and he hits the trunk road doing around 120 with no room left to brake. and he was too old to rocknroll but he was too young t
. no, youre never too old to rocknroll if youre too young to die.
My first and last time with you and we had some fun. went walking through the trees, yeah! And then I kissed you once. Oh I want to see you soon but I wonder how. It was a new day yesterday but it′s an old day now.
Spent a long time looking for a game to play. My luck should be so bad now to turn out this way. Oh I had to leave today just when I thought I′d found you. It was a new day yesterday But it′s an old day now.
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 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 out eyes; outside their lives go on much faster. Oh, we won′t give in, we′ll keep living in the past.
Sitting on a park bench eyeing up little girl 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 goes down to a bog to warm his feet. Feeling alone the army′s up the rode salvation a 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.
In the shuffling madness of the locomotive breath runs the alltime loser headlong to his death. Oh he feels the piston scraping steam breaking on his brow. Old Charlie stole the handle and the train
it won′t stop going no way to slow down. Oh Oh.
He sees his children jumping off at stations one by one. His woman and his best friend in bed and having fun. Oh he′s crawling down the corridor on his hands and his knees. Old Charlie stole the handle and the train
it won′t stop going no way to slow down. Oh Oh.
He hears the silence howling catches angels as they fall
And the alltime winner has got him by the balls. Oh he picks up Gidean′s Bible; open at page one. I thank Got 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.