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
   
 
 The Lyrics of Leonard Cohen: Enhanced Edition Page 2