————————————————— “The subway station’s closed again sleeps beneath its veil of rain my footprints broken trail behind steals the nightlights from my mind the dark deserted streets then clear today has lived and died in here so I leave the chapel gloom to find the shelter of my tiny room
————————————————— “You got your ticket and your hotel keys and your overnight bag at your feet you’re looking down on the tropical trees while the Spanish maids pick up the sheets Conquistador in search of gold for all the jackdaw reasons the Midas shadow that’s so hard to please and follows wherever you go
————————————————— “Said the apple to the orange: – Oh I wanted you to come Close to me and kiss me to the core Then you might know me like no other orange Has ever done before -“.
————————————————— “You always were a city kid though you were country raised and back in some forgotten time we shared the cold north days but the simple life was not your style and you just had to escape so it’s goodbye to my lady of the islands
————————————————— “I was making my way through the wasteland the road into town passes through I was changing the radio stations with my mind on you oh your friends call you “Lily Paloma” but that’s not the way that you are it’s too much of a gentle misnomer for a shooting star
————————————————— “Go and tell Lord Grenville that the tide is on the turn it’s time to haul the anchor up and leave the land astern we’ll be gone before the dawn returns like voices on the wind.
————————————————— “The fishing boats go out across the evening water smuggling guns and arms across the Spanish border the wind whips up the waves so loud the ghost moon sails among the clouds turns the rifles into silver on the border
————————————————— “It was late in December, the sky turned to snow all round the day was going down slow night like a river beginning to flow I felt the beat of my mind go drifting into time passages years go falling in the fading light time passages buy me a ticket on the last train …
———————————————— “On a morning from a Bogart movie in a country where they turn back time you go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre contemplating a crime
———————————————— “The wands of smoke are rising from the walls of the Bastille and through the streets of Paris runs a sense of the unreal the Kings have all departed their servants are nowhere we burned out all their mansions in the name of Robespierre and still we wait to see the day begin our …
———————————————— “What if you reached the age of reason only to find there was no reprieve would you still be a man for all seasons? Or would you just have to leave we measure our days out in steps of uncertainty not turning to see how we’ve come and peer down the highway from here …
———————————————— “While travelling northwards on a back country lane I came on the village where first I grew and stopped to climb up the hill once again looking down from the tracks to the grey slate roofs
———————————————— “Mr. Willoughby, whose only luxury is the sugar in his tea teaches history at high Worthington school his clothing has remained unnoticeably plain his common room technique suitably restrained though maybe too cool
———————————————— ———————————————— Al Stewart, pseudonimo di Alastair Ian Stewart (Glasgow, 5 settembre 1945), è un cantante, polistrumentista, compositore e poeta britannico, attivo nella scena del folk revival degli anni Sessanta e Settanta, e caratterizzantesi per una sua interpretazione personale che combinava folk, rock e racconti del passato. Divenne internazionalmente noto per Year of the Cat, …