Al Stewart

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 She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running Like a watercolor in the rain Don’t bother asking for explanations She’ll just tell you that she…

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 home…