On a Christmas cake day one Friday in August   In a bookshop in Charing Cross Road   I first set eyes on a girl and at once I did know   She had eyes like a poet and hair like a rainbow   Reflecting the lights that did glow   And the sadness she kept in her eyes, struck my senses a blow      And so as by chance at the touch of a glance   We could find ourselves out in the road   With no crush of time to defeat us and no place to go   And I couldn't say how, but the coffee bar crowd   Had appeared through the silence that broke   And 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 away   And I've got a room in Swiss Cottage   In which you could stay"      She laughed, "Oh I couldn't do that   For I've got to be up in the morning you see"   So I rang up to find out the first morning train she could take   And so in the gloom of a candlelit room   With spaghetti, two forks and a plate   She said "Oh, I really would like to be free and escape"      "Oh well, if it's like that, you don't have to go back   And 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 windows to take her away   I thought you can't make people be what you want them to be   I could see my self nailed to a dormitory tale   Of a holiday night's escapade   And just yesterday she had seemed like a woman to me      And so like a child with the sleep in her eyes   Where the sadness of age had once been   She left on the train with a 'See You Again' and a smile   And I couldn't say what I had won or I lost   Or even just what I had seen   But when I'm alone I just think of her once in awhile