paroles de chanson Post World War Two Blues - Al Stewart
I
was
a
post-war
baby
in
a
small
Scots
town
I
was
three
years
old
when
we
moved
down
south
Hard
times
written
in
my
mother's
looks
With
her
widow's
pension
and
her
ration
books
Aneurin
Bevan
took
the
miners'
cause
The
the
House
of
Commons
in
his
coal
dust
voice
We
were
locked
up
safe
and
warm
from
the
snow
With
"Life
with
the
Lyons"
on
the
radio
And
Churchill
said
to
Louis
Mountbatten
"I
just
can't
stand
to
see
you
today
How
could
you
have
gone
and
given
India
away?"
Mountbatten
just
frowned,
said
"What
can
I
say?
Some
of
these
things
slip
through
your
hands
And
there's
no
good
talking
or
making
plans"
But
Churchill
he
just
flapped
his
wings
Said
"I
don't
really
care
to
discuss
these
things,
but
Oh,
every
time
I
look
at
you
I
feel
so
low
I
don't
know
what
to
do
Well
every
day
just
seems
to
bring
bad
news
Leaves
me
here
with
the
Post
World
War
Two
Blues"
1959
was
a
very
strange
time
A
bad
year
for
Labour
and
a
good
year
for
wine
Uncle
Ike
was
our
American
pal
And
nobody
talked
about
the
Suez
Canal
I
can
still
remember
the
last
time
I
cried
The
day
that
Buddy
Holly
died
I
never
met
him,
so
it
may
seem
strange
Don't
some
people
just
affect
you
that
way
And
all
in
all
it
was
good
The
even
seemed
to
be
in
an
optimistic
mood
While
TW3
sat
and
laughed
at
it
all
Till
some
began
to
see
the
cracks
in
the
walls
And
one
day
Macmillan
was
coming
downstairs
A
voice
in
the
dark
caught
him
unawares
It
was
Christine
Keeler
blowing
him
a
kiss
He
said
"I
never
believed
it
could
happen
like
this
But
oh,
every
time
I
look
at
you
I
feel
so
low
I
don't
know
what
to
do
Well
every
day
just
seems
to
bring
bad
news
Leaves
me
here
with
the
post
World
War
Two
Blues"
I
came
up
to
London
when
I
was
nineteen
With
a
corduroy
jacket
and
a
head
full
of
dreams
In
coffee
bars
I
spent
my
nights
Reading
Allen
Ginsberg,
talking
civil
rights
The
day
Robert
Kennedy
got
shot
down
The
world
was
wearing
a
deeper
frown
And
though
I
knew
that
we'd
lost
a
friend
I
always
believed
we
would
win
in
the
end
'Cause
music
was
the
scenery
Jimi
Hendrix
played
loud
and
free
Sergeant
Pepper
was
real
to
me
Songs
and
poems
were
all
you
needed
Which
way
did
the
sixties
go?
Now
Ramona's
in
Desolation
Row
And
where
I'm
going
I
hardly
know
It
surely
wasn't
like
this
before
but
Oh,
every
time
I
look
around
I
feel
so
low
my
head
seems
underground
Well
every
day
just
seems
to
bring
bad
news
Leaves
me
here
with
the
Post
World
War
Two
Blues
Oh,
every
time
I
look
at
you
I
feel
so
low
I
don't
know
what
to
do
Well
every
day
just
seems
to
bring
bad
news
Leaves
me
here
with
the
post
World
War
Two
Blues
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