I work in dark factories,
A cog in a big wheel,
Driving grey satanic mills
And weaving sad stories.
And faceless masters,
Oh, they pay me plenty:
Crumbs from their luncheon bags
Harsh wine from bottles of empties.
(Chorus:)
"A stitch in time saves nine,"
Sang cock-robin from the wall.
"It's an early bird catches the worm;
Show a little pride before you fall."
So I flew to the south sun
With birds of a feather,
To drink in the warm nights
And tell of fine weather.
(Repeat Chorus)
Listen all you young folk:
Your lives on the time-table.
Clocking on twenty-one;
Fly while you're able.
(Repeat Chorus)
(Repeat Chorus)
| 1 | Aqualung |
| 2 | Living In The Past |
| 3 | Locomotive Breath |
| 4 | No Lullaby |
| 5 | A New Day Yesterday |
| 6 | Cross-Eyed Mary |
| 7 | Teacher |
| 8 | Reasons For Waiting |
| 9 | Budapest |
| 10 | Heavy Horses |