Al Stewart - Pretty golden hair

Born in England's pleasant green


Like a picture postcard scene


To childhood spread with fond maternal care


From the day that he was born


Proud relations came to fawn


And compliment his pretty golden hair





In boyhood sent away


To a boarding school to stay


Its crumbling proud traditions forced to bear


And his friends in this new world


Said he looks more like a girl


With those blue eyes and pretty golden hair





Fades secluded youth


Into manhood's search for truth


His mother's eyes now wet had turned to stare


For he said I must be bound


This day for London town


For I believe my fortune's waiting there





So like an eager cutting knife


He plunged in a new life


Oh never known beforehand anywhere


And the thought that he might trip


In his ignorance and slip


Never struck beneath his pretty golden hair





Ah the days soon grew thin


And boredom fast set in


His job was thrown away without a care


For a man who softly said


You'll earn twice as much instead


With those blue eyes and pretty golden hair





Well London town possessed


Of many a tempter's nest


And thus he fell with scarce another care


As so easily he slipped


Into prostitution's grip


Foundationed by his pretty golden hair





Ah but the years quickly flew


And his mind slowly grew


From early freedom into deep despair


As the money ceased to roll


A tired and lonely soul


Poured curses on his pretty golden hair





Ah the years stole their time


Now the living's hard to find


And early friends have vanished in the air


And the gay parties's ease


Changed to public lavatories


Have turned to grey his pretty golden hair





Oh his life was only used


And his body just abused


By those who never think and never care


But though his file said suicide


No, that wasn't why he died


It was murder by his pretty golden hair