Al Stewart
Franklin's Table

Al Stewart - Franklin's Table

Dinner with Ben Franklin on Friday night
The invitation read
Of course I wrote and thanked him
I wouldn't miss it for the world I said
His table is so well kept

He plays the glass harmonica
And talks of wind and kites
The habits of the court of France
And other strange delights
Of course I've heard it all before
On other wintry nights
And yet there is no better wine or conversation

The English call it claret
And clear and red it sits inside my glass
Sent to us from Paris
A greater kindness never came to pass
We'll drink his health, with the last

He plays the glass harmonica
And talks of wind and kites
Of almanacs and specacles
And other strange delights
Of course I've heard it all before
On other wintry nights
And yet there is no better wine or conversation

Time goes by in stories
Wine goes by, dark and young
When it comes my turn here
I'll be telling one with a purple tongue

The night grows philosophic
I miss a word or two, it must be said
As I hear them talking
I sink a little keeping in my chair
Thanking the fates that brought me here

He plays the glass harmonica
And talks of wind and kites
Of lightening and odometers
And other strange delights
Of course I've heard it all before
On other wintry nights
And yet there is no better wine or conversation


Mirror lyrics:

And yet there is no better wine or conversation
On other wintry nights
Of course I've heard it all before
And other strange delights
Of lightening and odometers
And talks of wind and kites
He plays the glass harmonica

Thanking the fates that brought me here
I sink a little keeping in my chair
As I hear them talking
I miss a word or two, it must be said
The night grows philosophic

I'll be telling one with a purple tongue
When it comes my turn here
Wine goes by, dark and young
Time goes by in stories

And yet there is no better wine or conversation
On other wintry nights
Of course I've heard it all before
And other strange delights
Of almanacs and specacles
And talks of wind and kites
He plays the glass harmonica

We'll drink his health, with the last
A greater kindness never came to pass
Sent to us from Paris
And clear and red it sits inside my glass
The English call it claret

And yet there is no better wine or conversation
On other wintry nights
Of course I've heard it all before
And other strange delights
The habits of the court of France
And talks of wind and kites
He plays the glass harmonica

His table is so well kept
I wouldn't miss it for the world I said
Of course I wrote and thanked him
The invitation read
Dinner with Ben Franklin on Friday night

Al Stewart - Franklin's Table


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