It was a cloudy Sunday morning when I left The Annexe
(the smallest B&B on Earth, just behind Victoria Station).
London was a ghost town, not a soul for miles and miles
And I took the Tube to St. John’s Wood station
-- Abbey Road once more.

The first time I was there it was a busy Friday afternoon
A girl of fifteen backpacking with her parents
Wearing a Scottish beret bought in Knightsbridge – and round eyeglasses
And a red sweater – the only one I had
Because it was supposed to be summer, but the weather was too cold.

And now I was riding the Jubilee line
A girl of twenty-three living in the Island, away from home
Wearing a long grey strong coat– and another pair of round eyeglasses
A backpack full of dreams and presents from the weekend out of University
It was autumn and the trees were yellowish and red.

And by the time I crossed the street
Not a car anywhere, the air still just like a dream
There were flowers and candles on the gates and on the rails
(it was his birthday, wasn’t it? Two days before?).
-- Abbey Road once more.

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