On a Christmas cake day one
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Friday in August
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In a bookshop in Charing Cross Road
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I first set eyes on a girl and at once I did know
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She had eyes like a poet and hair like a rainbow
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Reflecting the lights that did glow
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And the sadness she kept in her eyes
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Struck my senses a blow
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And so as by chance at the touch of a glance
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We could find ourselves out in the road
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With no crush of time to defeat us and no place to go
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And I couldn't say how but the coffee bar crowd
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Had appeared through the silence that broke
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And she said "Oh my father's a judge in St Albans you know."
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"Oh well, then perhaps I could help you
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You know that St. Albans is miles away
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And I've got a room in Swiss Cottage in which you could stay
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"She laughed "Oh I couldn't do that,
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For I've got to be up in the morning you see.
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"So I rang up to find out the first morning train she could take
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And so in the gloom of a candlelit room
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With spaghetti, two forks and a plate
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She said "Oh I really would like to be free and escape."
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"Oh well if it's like thatYou don't have to go back
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And you're perfectly welcome to stay"
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"But I've not finished school yet." she said as she got into bed
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And so as she slept and the pure morning crept
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Through the windows to take her away
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I thought you can't make people be what you want them to be
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I could see my self nailed to a dormitory tale
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Of a holiday night's escapade
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And just yesterday she had seemed like a woman to me
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And so like a child with the sleep in her eyes
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Where the sadness of age had once been
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She left on the train with a "See you again" and a smile
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And I couldn't say what I had won or I lost
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Or even just what I had seen
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But when I'm alone I just think of her once in awhile.
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Swiss Cottage Manoeuvres
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| Al Stewart |
