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On a Christmas cake day one |
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Friday in |
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August In a bookshop in |
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Charing Cross |
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Road I first set eyes on a girl and at once |
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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." "Oh well, then perhaps I could help you You know that St. Albans is miles away 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, 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." "Oh well if it's like thatYou don't have to go back And you're perfectly welcome to stay" "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 |
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I had won or |
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I lost Or even just what |
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I had seen |
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But when I'm alone |
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I just think of her once in awhile. |
