You say I took the Name in vain;
I don’t even know the name.
But if I did, well, really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light in every word;
it doesn’t matter which you heard,
the holy, or the broken Hallelujah!
I did my best; it wasn’t much.
I couldn’t feel, so I learned to touch.
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you.
And even though it all went wrong,
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
with nothing on my lips but Hallelujah!
(Additional verses)
Baby, I’ve been here before.
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch,
but love is not a victory march,
it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah!
There was a time you let me know
what’s really going on below
but now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you,
and the holy dove was moving too,
and every breath we drew was Hallelujah!
Now maybe there’s a God above
but all I ever learned from love
is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
And it’s no complaint you hear tonight,
and it’s not some pilgrim who’s seen the light —
it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah!
I’M YOUR MAN
FIRST WE TAKE MANHATTAN
They sentenced me to twenty years of boredom for trying to change the system from within. I’m coming now, I’m coming to reward them. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
I’m guided by a signal in the heavens. I’m guided by the birthmark on my skin. I’m guided by the beauty of our weapons. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
I’d really like to live beside you, baby. I love your body and your spirit and your clothes. But you see that line that’s moving through the station? I told you, I told you, I told you that I was one of those.
You loved me as a loser, but now you’re worried that I just might win. You know the way to stop me, but you don’t have the discipline. How many nights I prayed for this, to let my work begin. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
I don’t like your fashion business, mister. I don’t like these drugs that keep you thin. I don’t like what happened to my sister. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
I’d really like to live beside you, baby. I love your body and your spirit and your clothes. But you see that line that’s moving through the station? I told you, I told you, I told you that I was one of those.
And I thank you for the items that you sent me: the monkey and the plywood violin. I’ve practised every night and now I’m ready. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
Remember me? I used to live for music. Remember me? I brought your groceries in. It’s Father’s Day, and everybody’s wounded. First we take Manhattan, then we take Berlin.
TAKE THIS WALTZ
(After Lorca)
Now in Vienna there are ten pretty women.
There’s a shoulder where death comes to cry.
There’s a lobby with nine hundred windows.
There’s a tree where the doves go to die.
There’s a piece that was torn from the morning,
and it hangs in the Gallery of Frost —
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz with the clamp on its jaws.
I want you, I want you, I want you
on a chair with a dead magazine.
In the cave at the tip of the lily,
in some hallway where love’s never been.
On a bed where the moon has been sweating,
in a cry filled with footsteps and sand —
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take its broken waist in your hand.
This waltz, this waltz, this waltz, this waltz
with its very own breath
of brandy and death,
dragging its tail in the sea.
There’s a concert hall in Vienna
where your mouth had a thousand reviews.
There’s a bar where the boys have stopped talking,
they’ve been sentenced to death by the blues.
Ah, but who is it climbs to your picture
with a garland of freshly cut tears?
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
take this waltz, it’s been dying for years.
There’s an attic where children are playing,
where I’ve got to lie down with you soon,
in a dream of Hungarian lanterns,
in the mist of some sweet afternoon.
And I’ll see what you’ve chained to your sorrow,
all your sheep and your lilies of snow —
Ay, ay ay ay
Take this waltz, take this waltz
with its “I’ll never forget you, you know!”
And I’ll dance with you in Vienna,
I’ll be wearing a river’s disguise.
The hyacinth wild on my shoulder
my mouth on the dew of your thighs.
And I’ll bury my soul in a scrapbook,
with the photographs there and the moss.
And I’ll yield to the flood of your beauty,
my cheap violin and my cross.
And you’ll carry me down on your dancing
to the pools that you lift on your wrist —
O my love, o my love
Take this waltz, take this waltz,
it’s yours now. It’s all that there is.
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 can 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.
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 — 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
