Al Stewart: Swiss cottage maneuvers

On a Christmas cake day one Friday in AugustIn a book shop in Charing Cross RoadI first set eyes on a girl and at once I didn't knowShe had eyes like a poet and hair like a rainbowReflecting the lights that did glowAnd the sadness she kept in her eyesStruck my senses a blowAnd so as by chance at the touch of a glanceWe could find ourselves out in the roadWith no crush of time to defeat us and no place to goAnd I couldn't say how but the coffee bar crowd Had appeared through the silence that brokeAnd 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 awayAnd I've got a room in Swiss Cottage in which you could stayShe laughed "Oh I couldn't do that, for I've got to be up in themorning you see."So I rang up to find out the first morning train she could take.And so in the gloom of a candlelit roomWith spaghetti, two forks and plateShe said "Oh I really would like to be free and escape."Oh well if it's like that, you don't have to go backand you're perfectly welcome to stay"But I've not finished school yet." she said as she got into bed And so as she slept and the pure morning crept through the windowsto take her away I thought you can't make people be what you want them to beI could see my self nailed to a dormitory tale of a holiday night'sescapadeAnd just yesterday she had seemed like a woman to meand so like a child with the sleep in her eyesWhere the sadness of age had once beenShe left on the train with a "See you again" and a smileAnd I couldn't say what I had won or I lostOr even just what I had seenBut when I'm alone I just think of her once in awhile.