Al Stewart
Al Stewart
Alastair Ian "Al" Stewartis a Glasgow-born singer-songwriter and folk-rock musician who rose to prominence as part of the British folk revival in the 1960s and 1970s. He developed a unique style of combining folk-rock songs with delicately woven tales of characters and events from history...
NationalityScottish
ProfessionFolk Singer
Date of Birth5 September 1945
uprising faces be-you
Whoever you pretend to be, you must face yourself eventually.
real peppers hendrix
Jimi Hendrix played loud and free, Sergeant Pepper was real to me.
sadness hands all-alone
You reach out your hand, but you're all alone, in those time passages.
travel land long
Do you remember the church across the sands? You stood outside and planned to travel the lands, where the pilgrims go. So you packed your world up inside a canvas sack, set off down the highway with your rings and Kerouac. Someone said they saw you in Nepal a long time back. Tell me why you look away, don't you have a word to say?
school law alaska
Looking so cool, his greed is hard to conceal, he's fresh out of law school, you gave him a license to steal.
art queens media
Movie queens diffuse into Cinema haze, while libertines read pornozines in street cafes.
art media giving
She doesn't give you time for questions as she locks up your arms in hers. And you follow till your sense of direction completely disappears.
adages ifs
Nothing that's forced can ever be right, if it doesn't come naturally, leave it.
running rain expression
She comes out of the sun in a silk dress, running like a water color in the rain.
fall future past
Look to the past and remember no empire rises that sooner or later won't fall.
future judgment premonition
Louis Armstrong playing trumpet on the Judgment Day.
wish half wells
The literati in their cellarsPerform semantic tarantellas.I wish I did it half as well as them.
girl song knowledge
Of all the girls I ever knew some loved and some denied me And all the words I ever said have been no use to hide me And all the songs I ever sung each one of them untied me And all the girls I ever loved have left themselves inside me.
running country travel
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 came in the year of the cat.