| Leonard Cohen |
  
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 Songs of Love and Hate1998, Sony Music, - 1. Avalanche 2. Last Year's Man 3. Dress Rehersal Rag 4. Diamonds in the Mine 5. Love Calls You By Your Name 6. Famous Blue Raincoat 7. Sing Another Song, Boys 8. Joan of Arc 1. 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. 2. Last Year's Man The rain falls down on last year's man, that's a jew's harp on the table, that's a crayon in his hand. And the corners of the blueprint are ruined since they rolled far past the stems of thumbtacks that still throw shadows on the wood. And the skylight is like skin for a drum I'll never mend and all the rain falls down amen on the works of last year's man. I met a lady, she was playing with her soldiers in the dark oh one by one she had to tell them that her name was Joan of Arc. I was in that army, yes I stayed a little while; I want to thank you, Joan of Arc, for treating me so well. And though I wear a uniform I was not born to fight; all these wounded boys you lie beside, goodnight, my friends, goodnight. I came upon a wedding that old families had contrived; Bethlehem the bridegroom, Babylon the bride. Great Babylon was naked, oh she stood there trembling for me, and Bethlehem inflamed us both like the shy one at some orgy. And when we fell together all our flesh was like a veil that I had to draw aside to see the serpent eat its tail. Some women wait for Jesus, and some women wait for Cain so I hang upon my altar and I hoist my axe again. And I take the one who finds me back to where it all began when Jesus was the honeymoon and Cain was just the man. And we read from pleasant Bibles that are bound in blood and skin that the wilderness is gathering all its children back again. The rain falls down on last year's man, an hour has gone by and he has not moved his hand. But everything will happen if he only gives the word; the lovers will rise up and the mountains touch the ground. But the skylight is like skin for a drum I'll never mend and all the rain falls down amen on the works of last year's man. 3. Dress Rehearsal Rag Four o'clock in the afternoon and I didn't feel like very much. I said to myself, "Where are you golden boy, where is your famous golden touch?" I thought you knew where all of the elephants lie down, I thought you were the crown prince of all the wheels in Ivory Town. Just take a look at your body now, there's nothing much to save and a bitter voice in the mirror cries, "Hey, Prince, you need a shave." Now if you can manage to get your trembling fingers to behave, why don't you try unwrapping a stainless steel razor blade? That's right, it's come to this, yes it's come to this, and wasn't it a long way down, wasn't it a strange way down? There's no hot water and the cold is running thin. Well, what do you expect from the kind of places you've been living in? Don't drink from that cup, it's all caked and cracked along the rim. That's not the electric light, my friend, that is your vision growing dim. Cover up your face with soap, there, now you're Santa Claus. And you've got a gift for anyone who will give you his applause. I thought you were a racing man, ah, but you couldn't take the pace. That's a funeral in the mirror and it's stopping at your face. That's right, it's come to this, yes it's come to this, and wasn't it a long way down, ah wasn't it a strange way down? Once there was a path and a girl with chestnut hair, and you passed the summers picking all of the berries that grew there; there were times she was a woman, oh, there were times she was just a child, and you held her in the shadows where the raspberries grow wild. And you climbed the twilight mountains and you sang about the view, and everywhere that you wandered love seemed to go along with you. That's a hard one to remember, yes it makes you clench your fist. And then the veins stand out like highways, all along your wrist. And yes it's come to this, it's come to this, and wasn't it a long way down, wasn't it a strange way down? You can still find a job, go out and talk to a friend. On the back of every magazine there are those coupons you can send. Why don't you join the Rosicrucians, they can give you back your hope, you can find your love with diagrams on a plain brown envelope. But you've used up all your coupons except the one that seems to be written on your wrist along with several thousand dreams. Now Santa Claus comes forward, that's a razor in his mit; and he puts on his dark glasses and he shows you where to hit; and then the cameras pan, the stand in stunt man, dress rehearsal rag, it's just the dress rehearsal rag, you know this dress rehearsal rag, it's just a dress rehearsal rag. 4. Diamonds in the Mine The woman in blue, she's asking for revenge, the man in white -- that's you -- says he has no friends. The river is swollen up with rusty cans and the trees are burning in your promised land. And there are no letters in the mailbox, and there are no grapes upon the vine, and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore, and there are no diamonds in the mine. Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb, you say you're kind of restless now and it's on account of him. Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night, he was eating up a lady where the lions and Christians fight. And there are no letters in the mailbox and there are no grapes upon the vine, and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore, and there are no diamonds in the mine. (You tell them now) Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch, some very clever doctor went and sterilized the bitch, and the only man of energy, yes the revolution's pride, he trained a hundred women just to kill an unborn child. And there are no letters in the mailbox, oh no, there are no, no grapes upon your vine, and there are, there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore, and there are no diamonds in your mine. And there are no letters in the mailbox, and there are no grapes upon the vine, and there are no chocolates in your boxes anymore, and there are no diamonds in your mine. 5. Love Calls You By Your Name You thought that it could never happen to all the people that you became, your body lost in legend, the beast so very tame. But here, right here, between the birthmark and the stain, between the ocean and your open vein, between the snowman and the rain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. The women in your scrapbook whom you still praise and blame, you say they chained you to your fingernails and you climb the halls of fame. Oh but here, right here, between the peanuts and the cage, between the darkness and the stage, between the hour and the age, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. Shouldering your loneliness like a gun that you will not learn to aim, you stumble into this movie house, then you climb, you climb into the frame. Yes, and here, right here between the moonlight and the lane, between the tunnel and the train, between the victim and his stain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. I leave the lady meditating on the very love which I, I do not wish to claim, I journey down the hundred steps, but the street is still the very same. And here, right here, between the dancer and his cane, between the sailboat and the drain, between the newsreel and your tiny pain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. Where are you, Judy, where are you, Anne? Where are the paths your heroes came? Wondering out loud as the bandage pulls away, was I, was I only limping, was I really lame? Oh here, come over here, between the windmill and the grain, between the sundial and the chain, between the traitor and her pain, once again, once again, love calls you by your name. 6. Famous Blue Raincoat It's four in the morning, the end of December I'm writing you now just to see if you're better New York is cold, but I like where I'm living There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening. I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record. Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair She said that you gave it to her That night that you planned to go clear Did you ever go clear? Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder You'd been to the station to meet every train And you came home without Lili Marlene And you treated my woman to a flake of your life And when she came back she was nobody's wife. Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth One more thin gypsy thief Well I see Jane's awake -- She sends her regards. And what can I tell you my brother, my killer What can I possibly say? I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you I'm glad you stood in my way. If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me Your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free. Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes I thought it was there for good so I never tried. And Jane came by with a lock of your hair She said that you gave it to her That night that you planned to go clear -- Sincerely, L. Cohen 7. Sing Another Song, Boys (Let's sing another song, boys, this one has grown old and bitter.) Ah his fingernails, I see they're broken, his ships they're all on fire. The moneylender's lovely little daughter ah, she's eaten, she's eaten with desire. She spies him through the glasses from the pawnshops of her wicked father. She hails him with a microphone that some poor singer, just like me, had to leave her. She tempts him with a clarinet, she waves a Nazi dagger. She finds him lying in a heap; she wants to be his woman. He says, "Yes, I might go to sleep but kindly leave, leave the future, leave it open." He stands where it is steep, oh I guess he thinks that he's the very first one, his hand upon his leather belt now like it was the wheel of some big ocean liner. And she will learn to touch herself so well as all the sails burn down like paper. And he has lit the chain of his famous cigarillo. Ah, they'll never, they'll never ever reach the moon, at least not the one that we're after; it's floating broken on the open sea, look out there, my friends, and it carries no survivors. But lets leave these lovers wondering why they cannot have each other, and let's sing another song, boys, this one has grown old and bitter. 8. Joan of Arc Now the flames they followed Joan of Arc as she came riding through the dark; no moon to keep her armour bright, no man to get her through this very smoky night. She said, "I'm tired of the war, I want the kind of work I had before, a wedding dress or something white to wear upon my swollen appetite." Well, I'm glad to hear you talk this way, you know I've watched you riding every day and something in me yearns to win such a cold and lonesome heroine. "And who are you?" she sternly spoke to the one beneath the smoke. "Why, I'm fire," he replied, "And I love your solitude, I love your pride." "Then fire, make your body cold, I'm going to give you mine to hold," saying this she climbed inside to be his one, to be his only bride. And deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and high above the wedding guests he hung the ashes of her wedding dress. It was deep into his fiery heart he took the dust of Joan of Arc, and then she clearly understood if he was fire, oh then she must be wood. I saw her wince, I saw her cry, I saw the glory in her eye. Myself I long for love and light, but must it come so cruel, and oh so bright? |