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.
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,
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