(Part I and II)

(Rod Stewart)

In these days of changing ways
so called liberated days
a story comes to mind of a friend of mine

Georgie boy was gay I guess
nothin' more or nothin' less
the kindest guy I ever knew

His mother's tears fell in vain
the afternoon George tried to explain
that he needed love like all the rest

Pa said there must be a mistake
how can my son not be straight
after all I've said and done for him

Leavin' home on a Greyhound bus
cast out by the ones he loves
A victim of these gay days it seems

Georgie went to New York town
where he quickly settled down
and soon became the toast of the great white way

Accepted by Manhattan's elite
in all the places that were chic
No party was complete without George

Along the boulevards he'd cruise
and all the old queens blew a fuse
Everybody loved Georgie boy

The last time I saw George alive
was in the summer of seventy-five
he said he was in love I said I'm pleased

George attended the opening night
of another Broadway hype
but split before the final curtain fell

Deciding to take a short cut home
arm in arm they meant no wrong
A gentle breeze blew down Fifth Avenue

Out of a darkened side street came
a New Jersey gang with just one aim
to roll some innocent passer-by
There ensued a fearful fight
screams rang out in the night
Georgie's head hit a sidewalk cornerstone

A leather kid, a switchblade knife

To be continued...