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Back to the 70’s
Disc 1
01. We Will Rock You
02. Barracuda
03. My Sharona
04. Easy Livin’
05. Darlin’
06. 2‒4‒6‒8 Motorway
07. Black Night
08. Aqualung
09. Sex & Drugs & Rock & Roll
10. Milk and Alcohol
11. Spirit in the Sky
12. Devil Gate Drive
13. C’mon Everybody
14. Motorbikin’
15. Silver Machine
16. Nice ’n’ Sleazy
17. Paranoid
Disc 2
01. Blinded by the Light
02. More Than a Feeling
03. Livin’ Thing
04. (You Gotta Walk) Don’t Look Back
05. Heart of Glass
06. I Hear You Knockin’
07. Egyptian Reggae
08. Without You
09. Samba pa ti
10. Hotel California
11. Make Me Smile (Come Up and See Me)
12. Hiroshima
13. Lola
14. In the Skies
15. Lucky Man
16. I Want You to Want Me
Sitting on a park bench
Eyeing little girls with bad intent

Snot's 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
Oh, Aqualung

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
He goes down to the bog and warms his feet

Feeling alone
The army's up the road
Salvation a 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 on to 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

Leg 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 a 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
Me, oh-oh-oh

Aqualung, my friend
Don't you start away uneasy
You poor old sod
You see, it's only me, yeah

Sitting on a park bench
Eying little girls with bad intent

Snot's 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

Woah, Aqualung