grave. And I sing
this for a saviour with no one to save. Hey, won’t you be
naked for me? Hey, won’t you be naked for me? It goes:
Please don’t pass me by,
oh please don’t pass me by,
for I am blind, but you can see,
yes, I’ve been blinded totally,
oh now, please don’t pass me by.
Now there’s nothing that I tell you that will help you con-
nect the blood tortured night with the day that comes next.
But I want it to hurt you, I want it to end. Oh, won’t you be
naked for me? Oh now:
Please don’t pass me by,
oh please don’t pass me by,
for I am blind, but you can see,
but I’ve been blinded totally,
oh, please don’t pass me by.
Well I sing this song for you Blonde Beasts, I sing this
song for you Venuses upon your shells on the foam of the
sea. And I sing this for the freaks and the cripples, and
the hunchback, and the burned, and the burning, and the
maimed, and the broken, and the torn, and all of those that
you talk about at the coffee tables, at the meetings, and the
demonstrations, on the streets, in your music, in my songs.
I mean the real ones that are burning, I mean the real ones
that are burnin
I say, please don’t pass me by,
oh now, please don’t pass me by,
for I am blind, yeah but you can see,
ah now, I’ve been blinded totally,
oh no, please don’t pass me by.
I know that you still think that its me. I know that you
think that there’s
somebody else. I know that these words aren’t yours. But I
tell you friends
that one day
You’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down on your knees,
you’re going to get down ..
Oh, please don’t pass me by,
oh, please don’t pass me by,
for I am blind, yeah but you can see,
yes, I’ve been blinded totally,
oh, please don’t pass me by.
Well you know I have my songs and I have my poems. I
have my book and I
have the army, and sometimes I have your applause. I
make some money,
but you know what my friends, I’m still out there on the
corner. I’m with the freaks, I’m with the hunted, I’m with
the maimed, yes I’m with the torn, I’m
with the down, I’m with the poor. Come on now ...
Now I want to take away my dignity, yes take my dignity.
My friends, take
my dignity, take my form, take my style, take my honour,
take my courage,
take my time, take my time, .. time .. ‘Cause you know I’m
with you singing
this song. And I wish you would, I wish you would, I wish
you would go home with someone else. Wish you’d go
home with someone else. I wish you’d go home with some-
one else. Don’t be the person that you came with. Oh, don’t
be the person that you came with, Oh don’t be the person
that you came with. Ah, I’m not going to be. I can’t stand
him. I can’t stand who I am. That’s why I’ve got to get
down on my knees. Because I can’t make it by myself. I’m
not by myself anymore because the man I was before he
was a tyrant, he was a slave,
he was in chains, he was broken and then he sang:
Oh, please don’t pass me by,
oh, please don’t pass me by,
for I am blind, yes I am blind, Oh but you can see,
yes, I’ve been blinded totally,
oh, please don’t pass me by.
Well I hope I see you out there on the corner. Yeah I hope
as I go by that I hear you whisper with the breeze. Be-
cause I’m going to leave you now, I’m going to find me
someone new. Find someone new.
And please don’t pass me by.
Recorded in 1970 and included on Live Songs (1973), this is an unusual Cohen song, both in its length and its structure – a simple chorus interspersed with ad-libbed spoken sections. It is essentially a performance piece, the text given here being taken from the live recording, the last occasion on which Cohen performed this song. The chorus is taken straight from a New York beggar’s cardboard placard.
Priests
And who will write love songs for you
when I am lord at last
and your body is some little highway shrine
that all my priests have passed,
that all my priests have passed?
My priests they will put flowers there,
they will stand before the glass,
but they’ll wear away your little window, love,
they will trample on the grass,
they will trample on the grass.
And who will aim the arrow
that men will follow through your grace
when I am lord of memory
and all your armour has turned to lace,
and all your armour has turned to lace?
The simple life of heroes,
and the twisted life of saints,
they just confuse the sunny calendar
with their red and golden paints,
with their red and golden paints.
And all of you have seen the dance,
that God has kept from me,
but he has seen me watching you
when all your minds were free
when all your minds were free.
And who will write love songs for you ...
My priests they will put flowers there ...
Cohen has not recorded this song himself. It has been covered by Judy Collins (on Wildflowers (1967)), Richie Havens (on Richard P Havens (1969)) and Enrique Morente (in Spanish on Omega (1996)).
Queen Victoria
Queen Victoria,
My father and all his tobacco loved you,
I love you too in all your forms,
the slim unlovely virgin floating among German beards,
the mean governess of the huge pink maps,
the solitary mourner of a prince.
Queen Victoria,
I am cold and rainy,
I am dirty as a glass roof in a train station,
I feel like an empty cast iron exhibition,
I want ornaments on everything,
because my love, she gone with other boys.
Queen Victoria,
do you have a punishment under the white lace,
will you be short with her, make her read those little Bibles,
will you spank her
