Spanish Steps Songtext

von Eric Andersen

This song is a brief chronicle of frequently separated lovers. It begins on the Spanish Steps of Rome. English poet John Keats died in a small house at the foot of the steps. I wrote this one night in New York.

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Meet me on the Spanish steps oh you will not wait long
Near the place where we first met it was on the streets of Rome
You were young and your eyes were bright your cheeks were flush and fair
We were eye to eye on the Spanish steps I can see you standin there

When I was sailing the Portland coast your face came back to me
It became so real it was never a memory
A friend once asked would I send a word to the one in the long blue skirt
I didn't want to lose you I didn't know what one was worth

Later on we met again and we drank by the Oslo docks
The fire of art shot from your hands spillin freely from your heart
More than a smell of a memory and more than a love by choice
The thing that I remember best was the beauty in your voice

So now it's you and I my love and the two you bore for me
I love you for your strength that you carry so quietly
So let us hold our glasses high and keep our voices hid
And take me down on this summer's eve beneath the birches now

Meet me on the Spanish steps oh you will not wait long
Near the place where we first met it was on the streets of Rome
You were young and your eyes were bright your cheeks were flush and fair
We were eye to eye on the Spanish steps I can see you smilin there
I still see you smilin there