Oh, I was celebrating Al's birthday,
With his classics on LP,
Skipping and popping like a ricochet,
But that didn't bother me . . .
There was a rush of admiration
Like they'd caused a million times before;
I felt a wild anticipation,
What would the next 50 have in store?

And I hope he feels this way!
Like a beer-drinking Classicist,
In Nebraska's fields of hay,
Like the genius on the turntable,
On this bright September day!

There was a glass of wine in the warm, yellow light,
And I raised it to my lips.
A girl was turning every head in sight
With her gently swaying hips.
There was a feather-wearing dancer
Sparkling like champagne between the wars,
There was a prophet vending answers
And I heard him promise more and more . . .

And I hope he feels this way!
Like a beer-drinking Classicist,
In Nebraska's fields of hay,
Like the genius on the turntable,
On this bright September day!

Oh Al's 50 and he's even better
Than he ever was before,
Al's 50 and his new stuff's better
Than the classics I adore!

To elven music in an evening glade
The sunset o'er the trees
Silhouettes a ticker-tape parade's
Confetti on the breeze . . .
And there is torchlight on the hillside
As the joyous autumn night rolls in,
There are cloudless, moonlit boatrides,
Beaujolaix in cafes with a friend . . .

And I hope he feels this way!
Like a laughing Leonardo sketching Icarus in the sky,
Like a fishnet-stockinged waitress watching coffee cups marching by,
Like a sudden stroke of light'ning over Indian seas below,
Like a black-shirt-wearing listener at an Al Stewart show,
Like a plotting Peter Lorre just a-looking for a cat to steal,
Like the songs on the radio suddenly becoming real,
Like a beer-drinking Classicist in Nebraska's fields of hay,
Like the genius on the turntable on this bright September day!

Brian L Chaffin (chaff002@maroon.tc.umn.edu)