which he flew without any hands,
and you cruised above the ribbons of rain
that drove the crowd from the stands.
Then he killed the lights in a lonely Lane
and, an ape with angel glands,
erased the final wisps of pain
with the music of rubber bands.
And now I hear your master sing,
you kneel for him to come.
His body is a golden string
that your body is hanging from.
His body is a golden string,
my body has grown numb.
Oh now you hear your master sing,
your shirt is all undone.
And will you kneel beside this bed
that we polished so long ago,
before your master chose instead
to make my bed of snow?
Your eyes are wild and your knuckles are red
and you’re speaking far too low.
No I can’t make out what your master said
before he made you go.
Then I think you’re playing far too rough
for a lady who’s been to the moon;
I’ve lain by this window long enough
to get used to an empty room.
And your love is some dust in an old man’s cuff
who is tapping his foot to a tune,
and your thighs are a ruin, you want too much,
let’s say you came back some time too soon.
I loved your master perfectly
I taught him all that he knew.
He was starving in some deep mystery
like a man who is sure what is true.
And I sent you to him with my guarantee
I could teach him something new,
and I taught him how you would long for me
no matter what he said no matter what you’d do.
I believe that you heard your master sing
while I was sick in bed,
I’m sure that he told you everything
I must keep locked away in my head.
Your master took you travelling,
well at least that’s what you said,
And now do you come back to bring
your prisoner wine and bread?
Included on Songs Of Leonard Cohen (1967), this song is based on the poem ‘I Believe I Heard Your Master Sing’ from Parasites Of Heaven. Its theme – a philosophically complicated ménage a trois between the singer, his lover and her “master” – is one that Cohen had explored in his novel Beautiful Losers. It is interesting to note that, not long after writing this song, Cohen met his own “master”, the Buddhist Joshu Sasaki (known as Roshi) and is not known to have sung the song since.
Memories
Frankie Lane, he was singing ‘Jezebel’
I pinned an Iron Cross to my lapel
I walked up to the tallest and the blondest girl
I said, Look, you don’t know me now but very soon you will
So won’t you let me see
I said “won’t you let me see”
I said “won’t you let me see
Your naked body?”
Just dance me to the dark side of the gym
Chances are I’ll let you do most anything
I know you’re hungry, I can hear it in your voice
And there are many parts of me to touch, you have your choice
Ah but no you cannot see
She said “no you cannot see”
She said “no you cannot see
My naked body”
So We’re dancing close, the band is playing ‘Stardust’
Balloons and paper streamers floating down on us
She says, You’ve got a minute left to fall in love
In solemn moments such as this I have put my trust
And all my faith to see
I said all my faith to see
I said all my faith to see
Her naked body
Cohen’s tribute to Fifties Rock’n’Roll, this song was included on Death Of A Ladies’ Man (1977). A live version was included on Field Commander Cohen – Tour Of 1979 (2001). Frankie Laine (1913-2007) was an American singer with an eclectic range of styles – from crooning to rock to jazz – who had a million-selling hit with ‘Jezebel’ in 1951. ‘Stardust’ was a standard of the Great American Songbook, with music by Hoagy Carmichael and words by Mitchell Parish.
Minute Prologue
I’ve been listening
to all the dissention.
I’ve been listening
to all the pain.
And I feel that no matter
what I do for you,
it’s going to come back again.
But I think that I can heal it,
but I think that I can heal it,
I’m a fool, but I think I can heal it
with this song.
Recorded live in 1972, ‘Minute Prologue’ (as in “sixty seconds” rather than “very small”, though the ambiguity serves a poetic purpose), was included on Cohen’s first live album Live Songs (1973). The recording is the only known occasion on which Cohen has sung this song.
Morning Glory
No words this time? No words. No, there are times when nothing can be done.
Not this time. Is it censorship? Is it censorship? No, it’s evaporation. No, it’s
evaporation. Is this leading somewhere? Yes. We’re going down the lane. Is this
going somewhere? Into the garden. Into the backyard. We’re walking down the
driveway. Are we moving towards.... We’re in the backyard. ...some transcen-
dental moment? It’s almost light. That’s right. That’s it. Are we moving towards
some transcendental moment? That’s right. That’s it. Do you think you’ll be able
to pull it off? Yes. Do you think you can pull it off? Yes, it might happen. I’m all
ears. I’m all ears. Oh the morning glory!
Included on Dear Heather (2004), this “song” is recited rather than sung, hence its prosaic layout.
Never Any Good
I was never any good at loving you
I was never any good at coming
through for you
You’re going to feel much better
When you cut me loose forever
I was never any good
Never any good
I was never any good at loving you
I was dying when we met
I bet my life on you
But you called me and I folded
like you knew I’d do
You called my ace, my king, my bluff
Okay, you win, enough’s enough
I was never any good
Never any good
I was never any good at loving you
I was pretty good at taking out
the garbage
Pretty good at holding up the wall
Dealing with the fire and the earthquake
But that don’t count
That don’t count
That don’t count for nothing much at all
I was never any good at loving you
I was just a tourist in your bed looking
at the view
But I can’t forget where my lips
have been
Those holy hills, that deep ravine
I
