The Law
How many times did you call me
And I knew it was late
I left everybody
But I never went straight
I don’t claim to be guilty
But I do understand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
Now my heart’s like a blister
From doing what I do
If the moon has a sister
It’s got to be you
I’m going to miss you forever
Tho’ it’s not what I planned
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
Now the deal has been dirty
Since dirty began
I’m not asking for mercy
Not from the man
You just don’t ask for mercy
While you’re still on the stand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
I don’t claim to be guilty
Guilty’s too grand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
That’s all I can say, baby
That’s all I can say
It wasn’t for nothing
That they put me away
I fell with my angel
Down the chain of command
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand
This song from Various Positions (1984) may have a title that is a direct translation of the Hebrew word Torah (used to describe the first five books of the Bible), but it is not a religious song. Indeed, some of its ideas are heretical – “I fell with my angel” contradicts the Jewish principle that angels can neither improve nor deteriorate while the suggestion that “you just don’t ask for mercy / while you’re still on the stand” is at odds with Catholic theology and practice. Given that Cohen has said that this song has “got something to do with the fact that there are consequences to our activities”, we may conclude that inso far as the song contains spiritual wisdom it is humanistic wisdom not religious.
The Letters
You never liked to get
The letters that I sent.
But now you’ve got the gist
Of what my letters meant.
You’re reading them again,
The ones you didn’t burn.
You press them to your lips,
My pages of concern.
I said there’d been a flood.
I said there’s nothing left.
I hoped that you would come.
I gave you my address.
Your story was so long,
The plot was so intense,
It took you years to cross
The lines of self-defense.
The wounded forms appear:
The loss, the full extent;
And simple kindness here,
The solitude of strength.
You walk into my room.
You stand there at my desk,
Begin your letter to
The one who’s coming next.
Co-written by Sharon Robinson, this song was included on Dear Heather (2004). The phrase “I said there’d been a flood / I said there’s nothing left” may be an oblique reference to the apocalyptic vision Cohen expressed in ‘The Future’, though it is of course a worldview that he has implicitly or explicitly expressed throughout his career.
The Old Revolution
I finally broke into the prison,
I found my place in the chain.
Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,
all the brave young men
they’re waiting now to see a signal
which some killer will be lighting for pay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,
you whom I cannot betray.
I fought in the old revolution
on the side of the ghost and the King.
Of course I was very young
and I thought that we were winning;
I can’t pretend I still feel very much like singing
as they carry the bodies away.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Lately you’ve started to stutter
as though you had nothing to say.
To all of my architects let me be traitor.
Now let me say I myself gave the order
to sleep and to search and to destroy.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
Yes, you who are broken by power,
you who are absent all day,
you who are kings for the sake of your children’s story,
the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,
the hand of your lover is clay.
Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...
This song, included on Songs From A Room (1969), uses political language but does not address social themes. But, although the song feels chock full of meaning, it is not clear what exactly it does address. That Cohen has not played the song live since its release suggests that its ambiguity has strayed over the boundary into imprecision, that the poet has indeed “started to stutter …”.
The Smokey Life
I’ve never seen your eyes so wide
I’ve never seen your appetite quite this occupied
Elsewhere is your feast of love
I know ... where long ago we agreed to keep it light
So lets be married one more night
It’s light, light enough
To let it go
It’s light enough to let it go
Remember when the scenery started fading
I held you till you learned to walk on air
So don’t look down the ground is gone,
there’s no one waiting anyway
The Smoky Life is practiced
Everywhere
So set your restless heart at ease
Take a lesson from these Autumn leaves
They waste no time waiting for the snow
Don’t argue now you’ll be late
There is nothing to investigate
It’s light enough, light enough
To let it go
Light enough to let it go
Remember when the scenery started fading
I held you til you learned to walk on air
So don’t look down the ground is gone,
there’s no one waiting anyway
The Smoky Life is practiced everywhere
Come on back if the moment lends
You can look up all my very closest friends
Light, light enough
To let it go
It’s light enough to let it go
Played on Cohen’s 1975 tour under the title ‘I Guess It’s Time’ and co-credited to John Lissauer, the version included on Recent Songs (1979) is credited solely to Cohen. The notion that “the smokey life” refers to drug use is not only simplistic
