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Love Chronicles

Al Stewart

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Love Chronicles

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Part II can remember the first girl that I did loveIt was StephanieIn kindergarten arithmetic classes she used toSit next to meI'd pass her sticky sweets under the tableWhere the teacher couldn't seeAlthough she wouldn't remember me nowSometimes I wonder where she can be.I can remember the first girl I kissed it wasChristine when I was ten.I'd been told we were moving awayI thought I'd never see her againOh don't forget meI'll be back when they let meBefore you learn how to lie when you're leavingLove is so much easier thenAnd at school would you believe three hundred boysAnd no girls at allBut you're a fool if you should leaveJust think of the joys of rugby footballAnd prep in the morning and Brylcream and acneAnd cross-country running to kill evil thoughtsI'm surprised that I survivedI ran ten thousand miles with my back to the wall.I can remember the first girl that I made love toIt was in a parkIn the lower pleasure gardens in BournemouthIn summer just after darkMy mind was reeling. Oh what a feeling.I missed the bus and walked twelve miles homeAnd it really didn't seem far.And all through my seventeenth summerRunning together from crowds and tiesTaking our clothes off and feeling each otherWith fingers and senses and mouths and eyes,Incurring the glances of old disapprovalFrom elderly local inhabitant's eyesOh time time we hardly even knew youYou didn't touch us with your lies.In the halcyon days of my late adolescenceMy goal seemed clearly in sightPlaying electric guitar with a beat groupWe set the ballrooms alightCamping it up for the dyed blonde receptionistsWho told us we were al-ri-yi-yightOn an ego trip for a teenage superstarOn thirty shillings a night.And so it fell that I came up to LondonTo look for fortune and fameStarry eyed in my seaside successesAnd much too sure of the game.First girl I met thereI thought I'd get thereBut the first girl was nearly the last girlShe left my eyes in the drain.Part II (slower)She sat on my floor in the dead of the nightRolling a joint and looking round for a lightHer clothes were so black and her face was so whiteHow could I know what was right?And I sat all huddled upon my bedWatching her in my innocenceAnd it was no sense at all, but too much senseThat took me to the bridge of impotence.Oh Artaud's anthology lay spread on the floorAnd the thoughts that she gave me, I'd not met beforeAnd stranded half hypnotised, I watched her in aweOf everything that she stood for.And I wanted more than anything to be like her with every senseBut it was no sense at all, but too much senseThat took me to the bridge of impotence.She came over to me and kissed me in playTaking my hands between her legs as she layAnd she looked in my eyes but I turned them awayFinding no words fit to say.And I hated myself, but could not moveShattered in my confidence,But it was no sense at all, but too much senseThat took me to the bridge of impotence.Now the stare of the lightbulb tore holes in my brainAs she got up in silence that hung like a stainAnd I wanted to speak, or call out her name,But how could I begin to explain?And my prosecuting room still holds a strand of her hairIn evidence,But it was no sense at all, but too much senseThat took me to the bridge of impotence.Oh I still think about her when the night fills with rainAnd speaks with its voices uneasy and vainAnd I think were I maybe to find her again,Oh I'd probably see her more plain.And I should have known she was just like me,It was after all only commonsense,But it was no sense at all, but too much senseThat took me to the bridge of impotence...Segue to part 3.The chords for each verse are the same.Part III (faster, tempo 1)(repeat)At first I didn't go out much at allI just stayed home in my chains.Picking over the threads of my confidenceAnd searching for the remains.And when I couldn't stand any more of itGoing down to a club.Mixing in with the sounds and the crowdsI let the music cover me up.And so it came that I stood disillusionedBy everything I'd been told.I just didn't believe love existedThey were all just digging for gold.Widows and bankers and typists and bus'nessmenLoved each other they said.But all it was though was just a manoeuvreThe quickest way into bed.And only, lonely, the harlequins and painted phoniesPick their ways, through the hazeOf highs and lows and bluesAnd all that I could do was to pick my way to youThough I didn't tell youYou were just a thing to proveBut I was hungry when found you, but I'm al-right now.They sigh, they lie, the refugees and superhe-roesOn ice, so nice to see you, what's your name?And all that I could do was to say the same to youTake you for the moment, though the moment wasn't trueBut I was hungry when I found you and I'm al-right now.Though the street lamp cut through the curfewIt shed no light on our mindIt would have been so easy to love youAt any other time.Only lonely, you came to me the night hung coldlyIn your eyes, some other time I might have stayed with youBut all that I could do was to turn around to youThanks for what you gave me now it's time to say "Adieu"Oh I was hungry when I found you but I'm al-right now.Ba ba ba alright now(repeat)And so I followed the other's exampleAnd jumped into the meleeIn hunting grounds of Earls Court and Swiss CottageI did my best to get laidBeer cans and parties, deb girls and artiesBouncing around in the social confusionMissing and making the grade.(Instrumental Solo - ad lib)Part IV (Slower)The very first time I must confessI thought you'd be like all of the restAnd we'd be strangers once againBy the time we were dressed.But when you'd smoked your cigaretteAnd talked of some people that we'd metI found myself asking was it set, did you have to go yet.And so you laughed and then kissed meAnd stayed for the whole weekendAlthough the bed was so narrowWe had to sleep end to end.And so the weeks passed through my brainIn their dadaistic chainI found myself seeing you again, and again and againAnd all you gave you gave it freeAsking for nothing back from meYou gave yourself unselfishly as a part of me.And where I thought that just pluckingThe fruits of the bed was enoughIt grew to be less like fuckingAnd more like making love.Of all the girls I ever knew some loved and some denied meAnd all the words I ever said have been no use to hide meAnd all the songs I ever sung each one of them untied meAnd all the girls I ever loved have left themselves inside me.
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