Bird On The Wire

Like a bird on the wire

Like a drunk in a midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free

Like a worm on a hook

Like a knight from some old-fashioned book

I have saved all my ribbons for thee

If I have been unkind

I hope that you can just let it go by

If I have been untrue

I hope you know it was never to you

Like a baby stillborn

Like a beast with his horn

I have torn everyone who reached out for me

But I swear by this song

And by all that I have done wrong

I will make it all up to thee

I saw a beggar leaning on his wooden crutch

He said to me “You must not ask for so much”

And a pretty woman leaning in her darkened door

She cried to me “Hey, why not ask for more?”

Oh like a bird on the wire

Like a drunk in a midnight choir

I have tried in my way to be free

Story Of Isaac

The door it opened slowly,

my father he came in;

I was nine years old.

And he stood so tall above me,

his blue eyes they were shining

and his voice was very cold.

He said, “I’ve had a vision

and you know I’m strong and holy,

I must do what I’ve been told.”

So we started up the mountain;

I was running, he was walking,

and his axe was made of gold.

Well, the trees they got much smaller,

the lake (like) a lady’s mirror,

(when) we stopped to drink some wine.

Then he threw the bottle over,

Broke a minute later,

and he put his hand on mine.

Thought I saw an eagle,

but it might have been a vulture,

I never could decide.

Then my father built an altar,

he looked once behind his shoulder,

he knew I would not hide.

You who build the altars now

to sacrifice the children,

you must not do it anymore.

A scheme is not a vision

and you never have been tempted

by a demon or a god.

You who stand above them now,

your hatchets blunt and bloody,

you were not there before:

when I lay upon a mountain

and my father’s hand was trembling

with the beauty of the word.

And if you call me Brother now,

forgive me if I inquire:

Just according to whose plan?

When it all comes down to dust,

I will kill you if I must,

I will help you if I can.

When it all comes down to dust,

I will help you if I must,

I will kill you if I can.

And mercy on our uniform,

man of peace or man of war,

the peacock spreads his (deadly) fan!

A Bunch Of Lonesome Heroes

A bunch of lonesome and very quarrelsome heroes

were smoking out along the open road;

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.”

The Partisan

Anna Marly/Hy Zaret

When they poured across the border

I was cautioned to surrender,

this I could not do;

I took my gun and vanished.

I have changed my name so often,

I’ve lost my wife and children

but I have many friends,

and some of them are with me.

An old woman gave us shelter,

kept us hidden in the garret,

then the soldiers came;

she died without a whisper.

There were three of us this morning

I’m the only one this evening

but I must go on;

the frontiers are my prison.

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,

through the graves the wind is blowing,

freedom soon will come;

then we’ll come from the shadows.

Les Allemands e’taient chez moi, [The Germans were at my home]

ils me dirent, “Signe toi,” [They said, “Sign yourself,”]

mais je n’ai pas peur; [But I am not afraid]

j’ai repris mon arme. [I have retaken my weapon.]

J’ai change’ cent fois de nom, [I have changed names a hundred times]

j’ai perdu femme et enfants [I have lost wife and children]

mais j’ai tant d’amis; [But I have so many friends]

j’ai la France entičre. [I have all of France]

Un vieil homme dans un grenier [An old man, in an attic]

pour la nuit nous a cache’, [Hid us for the night]

les Allemands l’ont pris; [The Germans captured him]

il est mort sans surprise. [He died without surprise.]

Oh, the wind, the wind is blowing,

through the graves the wind is blowing,

freedom soon will come;

then we’ll come from the shadows.

Seems So Long Ago, Nancy

It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone. Looking at the Late Late Show through a semi-precious stone. In the House of Honesty her father was on trial. In the House of Mystery there was no one at all. There was no one at all.

It seems so long ago, none of us were strong. Nancy wore green stockings and she slept with everyone. She never said she’d wait for us although she was alone. I think she fell in love for us in nineteen sixty-one. Nineteen sixty-one.

It seems so long ago, Nancy was alone. A forty-five beside her head, an open telephone. We told her she was beautiful. We told her she was free. But none of us would meet her in the House of Mystery. The House of Mystery.

And now you look around you. See her everywhere. Many use her body. Many comb her hair. In the hollow of the night when you are cold and numb, you hear her talking freely then. She’s happy that you’ve come. She’s happy that you’ve come.

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,

you whom I cannot betray.

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,

you whom I cannot betray.

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,

you whom I cannot betray.

The Butcher

I came upon a butcher,

he was slaughtering a lamb,

I accused him there

with his tortured lamb.

He said, “Listen to me, child,

I am what I am

and you, you are my only son.”

Well, I found a silver needle,

I put it into my arm.

It did some good,

did some harm.

But the nights were cold

and it almost kept me warm,

how come the night is long?

I saw some flowers growing up

where that lamb fell down;

was I supposed to praise my Lord,

make some kind of joyful sound?

He said, “Listen, listen to me now,

I go round and round

and you, you are my only child.”

Do not leave me now,

do not leave me now,

I’m broken down

from a recent fall.

Blood upon my body

and ice upon my soul,

lead on, my son, it is your world.

You Know Who I Am

I cannot follow you my love

You cannot follow me

I am the distance you put between

All of the moments that we will be

You know who I am

You’ve stared at the sun

(Well) I am the one who loves changing

from nothing to one

Sometimes I need you naked
Sometimes I need you wild

I need you to carry my children in

and I need you to kill a child

You know who I am

You’ve stared at the sun

(Well) I am the one who loves changing

from nothing to one

If you should ever track me down

I will surrender there

And I’ll leave with you one broken man

whom I will teach you to repair

You know who I am

You’ve stared at the sun

(Well) I am the one who loves changing

from nothing to one

I cannot follow you my love

You cannot follow me

I am the distance you put between

All of the moments that we will be

You know who I am

You’ve stared at the sun

(Well) I am the one who loves changing

from nothing to one

Lady Midnight

I came by myself to a very crowded place. I was looking for someone who had lines in her face. I found her there, but she was past all concern. I asked her to hold me; I said: Lady, unfold me, but she scorned me and she told me I was dead and I could never return.

Well, I argued all night, like so many have before, saying: Whatever you give me, seem to need so much more. Then she pointed at me where I kneeled on her floor. She said: Don’t try to use me, or slyly refuse me, just win me or lose me – it is this that the darkness is for!

I cried, O, Lady Midnight, I fear that you grow old; the stars eat your body and the wind makes you cold. If we cry now, she said, it will just be ignored. So I walked through the morning, the sweet early morning, I could hear my lady calling: You’ve won me, you’ve won me, my lord. You’ve won me, you’ve won me, my lord. Yes, you’ve won me, you’ve won me, my lord. Ah you’ve won me, you’ve won me, my lord.

Tonight Will Be Fine

Sometimes I find I get to thinking of the past.

We swore to each other then, our love would surely last.

You kept right on loving, I went on a fast,

now I am too thin and your love is too vast.

But I know from your eyes

and I know from your smile

that tonight will be fine,

will be fine, will be fine, will be fine

for a while.

I choose the rooms that I live in with care,

the windows are small and the walls almost bare,

there’s only one bed and there’s only one prayer;

I listen all night for your step on the stair.

But I know from your eyes

and I know from your smile

that tonight will be fine,

will be fine, will be fine, will be fine

for a while.

Oh sometimes I see her undressing for me,

she’s the soft naked lady love meant her to be

and she’s moving her body so brave and so free.

I’ve got to remember that’s a fine memory.

And I know from her eyes

and I know from her smile

that tonight will be fine,

will be fine, will be fine, will be fine

for a while.

(c) 1969 Leonard Cohen, Sony/ATV Music Publishing Canada Company

“The Partisan” (c) Anna Marly & Hy Zaret

Courtesy of Menart, an exclusive Sony dealer for Croatia
Reprinted here with written permission