The Lyrics of Leonard Cohen: Enhanced Edition Page 2

the night was very dark and thick between them,

  each man beneath his ordinary load.

  “I’d like to tell my story,”

  said one of them so young and bold,

  “I’d like to tell my story,

  before I turn into gold.”

  But no one really could hear him,

  the night so dark and thick and green;

  well I guess that these heroes must always live there

  where you and I have only been.

  Put out your cigarette, my love,

  you’ve been alone too long;

  and some of us are very hungry now

  to hear what it is you’ve done that was so wrong.

  I sing this for the crickets,

  I sing this for the army,

  I sing this for your children

  and for all who do not need me.

  “I’d like to tell my story,”

  said one of them so bold,

  “Oh yes, I’d like to tell my story

  ‘cause you know I feel I’m turning into gold.”

  Included on Songs From A Room (1969), the third stanza had previously appeared as the second stanza of ‘New Poem’ in Cohen’s Selected Poems 1956-1968. There are no reports of Cohen ever singing this song in public.

  A Singer Must Die

  Now the courtroom is quiet, but who will confess.

  Is it true you betrayed us? The answer is Yes.

  Then read me the list of the crimes that are mine,

  I will ask for the mercy that you love to decline.

  And all the ladies go moist, and the judge has no choice,

  a singer must die for the lie in his voice.

  And I thank you, I thank you for doing your duty,

  you keepers of truth, you guardians of beauty.

  Your vision is right, my vision is wrong,

  I’m sorry for smudging the air with my song.

  Oh, the night it is thick, my defences are hid

  in the clothes of a woman I would like to forgive,

  in the rings of her silk, in the hinge of her thighs,

  where I have to go begging in beauty’s disguise.

  Oh goodnight, goodnight, my night after night,

  my night after night, after night, after night,

  after night, after night.

  I am so afraid that I listen to you,

  your sun glassed protectors they do that to you.

  It’s their ways to detain, their ways to disgrace,

  their knee in your balls and their fist in your face.

  Yes and long live the state by whoever it’s made,

  sir, I didn’t see nothing, I was just getting home late.

  Included on New Skin For The Old Ceremony (1974), Cohen has claimed that this song is “political in a certain way” – though perhaps not in a way that a politician or a lexicographer would recognize.

  A Thousand Kisses Deep

  for Sandy

  The ponies run, the girls are young,

  The odds are there to beat.

  You win a while, and then it’s done –

  Your little winning streak.

  And summoned now to deal

  With your invincible defeat,

  You live your life as if it’s real,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,

  I’m back on Boogie Street.

  You lose your grip, and then you slip

  Into the Masterpiece.

  And maybe I had miles to drive,

  And promises to keep:

  You ditch it all to stay alive,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  And sometimes when the night is slow,

  The wretched and the meek,

  We gather up our hearts and go,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  Confined to sex, we pressed against

  The limits of the sea:

  I saw there were no oceans left

  For scavengers like me.

  I made it to the forward deck

  I blessed our remnant fleet –

  And then consented to be wrecked,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  I’m turning tricks, I’m getting fixed,

  I’m back on Boogie Street.

  I guess they won’t exchange the gifts

  That you were meant to keep.

  And quiet is the thought of you

  The file on you complete,

  Except what we forgot to do,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  And sometimes when the night is slow,

  The wretched and the meek,

  We gather up our hearts and go,

  A Thousand Kisses Deep.

  The ponies run, the girls are young,

  The odds are there to beat…

  One of Ten New Songs (2001) co-written by Sharon Robinson, this song is a good late-period example of Cohen’s world-weary stance and lyrical inventiveness. The song is dedicated to Sandy Merriman (1945-1998) of whom Cohen has said: “She was a woman in her middle fifties, and she committed suicide at a certain point. We corresponded and she kind of indicated that my work kind of got her through the night. But, I guess itfailed. I just wanted to keep her memory alive. She was an American woman. She had cancer and as in a lot of pain”. (For a description of Boogie Street, see the song of that name.)

  Ain’t No Cure For Love

  I loved you for a long, long time

  I know this love is real

  It don’t matter how it all went wrong

  That don’t change the way I feel

  And I can’t believe that time’s

  Gonna heal this wound I’m speaking of

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure for love

  I’m aching for you baby

  I can’t pretend I’m not

  I need to see you naked

  In your body and your thought

  I’ve got you like a habit

  And I’ll never get enough

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure for love

  There ain’t no cure for love

  There ain’t no cure for love

  All the rocket ships are climbing through the sky

  The holy books are open wide

  The doctors working day and night

  But they’ll never ever find that cure for love

  There ain’t no drink no drug

  (Ah tell them, angels)

  There’s nothing pure enough to be a cure for love

  I see you in the subway and I see you on the bus

  I see you lying down with me, I see you waking up

  I see your hand, I see your hair

  Your bracelets and your brush

  And I call to you, I call to you

  But I don’t call soft enough

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure for love

  I walked into this empty church I had no place else to go

  When the sweetest voice I ever heard, whispered to my soul

  I don’t need to be forgiven for loving you so much

  It’s written in the scriptures

  It’s written there in blood

  I even heard the angels declare it from above

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure,

  There ain’t no cure for love

  There ain’t no cure for love

  There ain’t no cure for love

  All the rocket ships are climbing through the sky

  The holy books are open wide

  The doctors working day and night

  But they’ll never ever find that cure,

  That cure for love

  The title derives from a comment Cohen made to the singer Jennifer Warnes during a discussion of the then newly emerging AIDS phenomenon. The original version was
recorded by Warnes on her album Famous Blue Raincoat (1986). A revised version, with the chorus and final two stanzas rewritten, was included on I’m Your Man (1988).

  Alexandra Leaving

  Suddenly the night has grown colder.

  The god of love preparing to depart.

  Alexandra hoisted on his shoulder,

  They slip between the sentries of the heart.

  Upheld by the simplicities of pleasure,

  They gain the light, they formlessly entwine;

  And radiant beyond your widest measure

  They fall among the voices and the wine.

  It’s not a trick, your senses all deceiving,

  A fitful dream, the morning will exhaust –

  Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.

  Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

  Even though she sleeps upon your satin;

  Even though she wakes you with a kiss.

  Do not say the moment was imagined;

  Do not stoop to strategies like this.

  As someone long prepared for this to happen,

  Go firmly to the window. Drink it in.

  Exquisite music. Alexandra laughing.

  Your firm commitments tangible again.

  And you who had the honor of her evening,

  And by the honor had your own restored –

  Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving;

  Alexandra leaving with her lord.

  Even though she sleeps upon your satin;

  Even though she wakes you with a kiss.

  Do not say the moment was imagined;

  Do not stoop to strategies like this.

  As someone long prepared for the occasion;

  In full command of every plan you wrecked –

  Do not choose a coward’s explanation

  that hides behind the cause and the effect.

  And you who were bewildered by a meaning;

  Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed –

  Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.

  Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

  And you who were bewildered by a meaning;

  Whose code was broken, crucifix uncrossed –

  Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.

  Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

  Say goodbye to Alexandra leaving.

  Then say goodbye to Alexandra lost.

  This song, co-written by Sharon Robinson, was included on Ten New Songs (2001). It is a re-working of the poem ‘The God Abandons Antony’ by the Greek poet Constantine Cavafy. The original poem was based on Plutarch’s story about how Mark Antony, besieged in Alexandria by Octavian, hears the sound of music passing through and out of the city and realises it is the god Bacchus deserting him. Recasting the story as one about the end of an affair, Cohen provides a well-written late example of one of his regular themes – stoicism in the face of love’s disappointment.

  Anthem

  The birds they sang

  at the break of day

  Start again

  I heard them say

  Don’t dwell on what

  has passed away

  or what is yet to be.

  Ah the wars they will

  be fought again

  The holy dove

  She will be caught again

  bought and sold

  and bought again

  the dove is never free.

  Ring the bells that still can ring

  Forget your perfect offering

  There is a crack in everything

  That’s how the light gets in.

  We asked for signs

  the signs were sent:

  the birth betrayed

  the marriage spent

  Yeah the widowhood

  of every government --

  signs for all to see.

  I can’t run no more

  with that lawless crowd

  while the killers in high places

  say their prayers out loud.

  But they’ve summoned, they’ve summoned up

  a thundercloud

  and they’re going to hear from me.

  Ring the bells that still can ring ...

  You can add up the parts

  but you won’t have the sum

  You can strike up the march,

  there is no drum

  Every heart, every heart

  to love will come

  You can add up the parts

  but you won’t have the sum

  You can strike up the march,

  there is no drum

  Every heart, every heart

  to love will come

  but like a refugee.

  Ring the bells that still can ring

  Forget your perfect offering

  There is a crack, a crack in everything

  That’s how the light gets in.

  Ring the bells that still can ring

  Forget your perfect offering

  There is a crack, a crack in everything

  That’s how the light gets in.

  That’s how the light gets in.

  That’s how the light gets in.

  Regarded by Cohen as “one of the best songs I’ve written, maybe the best”, it had a long gestation. He recorded versions of it during the sessions for both Various Positions (1985) and I’m Your Man (1988) but “there was a lie somewhere in there … a disclosure that I was refusing to make … a solemnity that I hadn’t achieved”. Finally realised to his satisfaction, it was included on The Future (1992).

  Avalanche

  Well I stepped into an avalanche,

  it covered up my soul;

  when I am not this hunchback that you see,

  I sleep beneath the golden hill.

  You who wish to conquer pain,

  you must learn, learn to serve me well.

  You strike my side by accident

  as you go down for your gold.

  The cripple here that you clothe and feed

  is neither starved nor cold;

  he does not ask for your company,

  not at the centre, the centre of the world.

  When I am on a pedestal,

  you did not raise me there.

  Your laws do not compel me

  to kneel grotesque and bare.

  I myself am the pedestal

  for this ugly hump at which you stare.

  You who wish to conquer pain,

  you must learn what makes me kind;

  the crumbs of love that you offer me,

  they’re the crumbs I’ve left behind.

  Your pain is no credential here,

  it’s just the shadow, shadow of my wound.

  I have begun to long for you,

  I who have no greed;

  I have begun to ask for you,

  I who have no need.

  You say you’ve gone away from me,

  but I can feel you when you breathe.

  Do not dress in those rags for me,

  I know you are not poor;

  you don’t love me quite so fiercely now

  when you know that you are not sure,

  it is your turn, beloved,

  it is your flesh that I wear.

  Based on the poem ‘I Stepped Into An Avalanche’ (included in Parasites Of Heaven), this song was included on Songs Of Love And Hate (1971).

  Ballad Of The Absent Mare

  Say a prayer for the cowboy

  His mare’s run away

  And he’ll walk till he finds her

  His darling, his stray

  but the river’s in flood

  and the roads are awash

  and the bridges break up

  in the panic of loss.

  And there’s nothing to follow

  There’s nowhere to go

  She’s gone like the summer

  gone like the snow

  And the crickets are breaking

  his heart with their song

  as the day caves in

  and the n
ight is all wrong

  Did he dream, was it she

  who went galloping past

  and bent down the fern

  broke open the grass

  and printed the mud with

  the iron and the gold

  that he nailed to her feet

  when he was the lord

  And although she goes grazing

  a minute away

  he tracks her all night

  he tracks her all day

  Oh blind to her presence

  except to compare

  his injury here

  with her punishment there

  Then at home on a branch

  in the highest tree

  a songbird sings out

  so suddenly

  Ah the sun is warm

  and the soft winds ride

  on the willow trees

  by the river side

  Oh the world is sweet

  the world is wide

  and she’s there where

  the light and the darkness divide

  and the steam’s coming off her

  she’s huge and she’s shy

  and she steps on the moon

  when she paws at the sky

  And she comes to his hand

  but she’s not really tame

  She longs to be lost

  he longs for the same

  and she’ll bolt and she’ll plunge

  through the first open pass

  to roll and to feed

  in the sweet mountain grass

  Or she’ll make a break

  for the high plateau

  where there’s nothing above

  and there’s nothing below

  and it’s time for the burden

  it’s time for the whip

  Will she walk through the flame

  Can he shoot from the hip

  So he binds himself

  to the galloping mare

  and she binds herself

  to the rider there

  and there is no space

  but there’s left and right

  and there is no time

  but there’s day and night

  And he leans on her neck

  and he whispers low

  “Whither thou goest

  I will go”

  And they turn as one

  and they head for the plain

  No need for the whip

  Ah, no need for the rein

  Now the clasp of this union

  who fastens it tight?

  Who snaps it asunder

  the very next night

  Some say the rider

  Some say the mare

  Or that love’s like the smoke

  beyond all repair

  But my darling says