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Love Chronicles

Artist:Al Stewart  Album:Love Chronicles  Writer:STEWART ALASTAIR IAN  Composer:STEWART ALASTAIR IAN 

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I can remember the first girl that I did love It was Stephanie In kindergarten arithmetic classes she used to Sit next to me I'd pass her sticky sweets under the table Where the teacher couldn't see Although she wouldn't remember me now Sometimes I wonder where she can be I can remember the first girl I kissed It was Christine when I was ten I'd been told we were moving away I thought I'd never see her again Oh don't forget me I'll be back when they let me Before you learn how to lie when you're leaving Love is so much easier then And at school would you believe three hundred boys And no girls at all But you're a fool if you should leave Just think of the joys of rugby football And prep in the morning and Brylcreem and acne And cross-country running to kill evil thoughts I'm surprised that I survived I ran ten thousand miles with my back to the wall I can remember the first girl that I made love to It was in a park In the lower pleasure gardens in Bournemouth In summer just after dark My mind was reeling: Oh what a feeling. I missed the bus and walked twelve miles home And it really didn't seem far And all through my seventeenth summer Running together from crowds and ties Taking our clothes off and feeling each other With fingers and senses and mouths and eyes Incurring the glances of old disapproval From elderly local inhabitant's eyes Oh time, time we hardly even knew you You didn't touch us with your lies In the halcyon days of my late adolescence My goal seemed clearly in sight Playing electric guitar with a beat group We set the ballrooms alight Camping it up for the dyed blonde receptionists Who told us we were al-ri-yi-yight On an ego trip for a teenage superstar On thirty shillings a nigh-yight And so it fell that I came up to London To look for fortune and fame Starry eyed in my seaside successes And much too sure of the game First girl I met there I thought I'd get there But the first girl was nearly the last girl She left my eyes in the drain She sat on my floor in the dead of the night Rolling a joint and looking round for a light Her clothes were so black and her face was so white How could I know what was right? And I sat all huddled upon my bed Watching her in my innocence And it was no sense at all, but too much sense That took me to the bridge of impotence Oh Artaud's anthology lay spread on the floor And the thoughts that she gave me, I'd not met before And stranded half hypnotised, I watched her in awe Of everything that she stood for And I wanted more than anything to be like her with every sense But it was no sense at all, but too much sense That took me to the bridge of impotence She came over to me and kissed me in play Taking my hand between her legs as she lay And she looked in my eyes but I turned them away Finding no words fit to say And I hated myself, but could not move Shattered in my confidence But it was no sense at all, but too much sense That took me to the bridge of impotence Now the stare of the lightbulb tore holes in my brain As she got up in the silence that hung like a stain And I wanted to speak, or to call out her name But how could I begin to explain? And my prosecuting room still holds A strand of her hair in evidence But it was no sense at all, but

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