Café Mouffe: Leonard Cohen

Tower of Song became my new anthem after I gave Leonard Cohen’s Live In London to Ms. Modigliani for her birthday. I find myself singing the lyric at the most inappropriate of times, but hey, it works for me!

My friends are gone and my hair is grey.
I ache in the places where I used to play.
And I’m crazy for love but I’m not coming on.
I’m just paying my rent every day in the tower of song.

Another song from the London Concert should be the national anthem. I can get choked up when I hear Democracy Is Coming to the USA.

I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.

The official music video is very good, too, but the embed is locked down.

Encore: Also fine and equally locked down are Because Of, Dance Me to the End of Love, and Closing Time.

Café Mouffe opens on Fridays. Please drop by for a listen and a chat. Sometimes the embedded videos don’t work here due to bandwidth constraints, but you’ll always find links to video sources in the notes. Try them. If you’re curious about the Mouffe, here’s the original idea behind it’s creation.

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2 Responses to Café Mouffe: Leonard Cohen

  1. Mark Willis says:

    TOWER OF SONG lyrics by Leonard Cohen

    My friends are gone and my hair is grey.
    I ache in the places where I used to play.
    And I’m crazy for love but I’m not coming on.
    I’m just paying my rent every day in the tower of song.

    I said to Hank Williams: “How lonely does it get?”
    Hank Williams hasn’t answered yet,
    but I hear him coughing all night long,
    a hundred floors above me in the tower of song.

    I was born like this, I had no choice.
    I was born with the gift of a golden voice,
    and twenty-seven angels from the great beyond,
    they tied me to this table right here in the tower of song.

    So you can stick your little pins in that voodoo doll
    – I’m very sorry, baby, doesn’t look like me at all.
    I’m standing by the window where the light is strong.
    They don’t let a woman kill you not in the tower of song.

    Now you can say that I’ve grown bitter but of this you may be sure:
    The rich have got their channels in the bedrooms of the poor,
    and there’s a mighty judgement coming, but I may be wrong.
    You see, you hear these funny voices in the tower of song.

    I see you standing on the other side.
    I don’t know how the river got so wide.
    I loved you, I loved you way back when –
    And all the bridges are burning that we might have crossed,
    but I feel so close to everything that we lost-
    We’ll never, we’ll never have to lose it again.

    So I bid you farewell, I don’t know when I’ll be back.
    They’re moving us tomorrow to that tower down the track.
    But you’ll be hearing from me, baby, long after I’m gone.
    I’ll be speaking to you sweetly from my window in the tower of song.

    My friends are gone and my hair is grey.
    I ache in the places where I used to play.
    And I’m crazy for love but I’m not coming on.
    I’m just paying my rent every day in the tower of song.

  2. Mark Willis says:

    Democracy – lyrics by Leonard Cohen

    It’s coming through a hole in the air,
    from those nights in Tiananmen Square.
    It’s coming from the feel
    that this ain’t exactly real,
    or it’s real, but it ain’t exactly there.
    From the wars against disorder,
    from the sirens night and day,
    from the fires of the homeless,
    from the ashes of the gay:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

    It’s coming through a crack in the wall;
    on a visionary flood of alcohol;
    from the staggering account
    of the Sermon on the Mount
    which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
    It’s coming from the silence
    on the dock of the bay,
    from the brave, the bold, the battered
    heart of Chevrolet:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

    It’s coming from the sorrow in the street,
    the holy places where the races meet;
    from the homicidal bitchin’
    that goes down in every kitchen
    to determine who will serve and who will eat.
    From the wells of disappointment
    where the women kneel to pray
    for the grace of God in the desert here
    and the desert far away:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

    Sail on, sail on
    O mighty Ship of State!
    To the Shores of Need
    Past the Reefs of Greed
    Through the Squalls of Hate
    Sail on, sail on, sail on, sail on.

    It’s coming to America first,
    the cradle of the best and of the worst.
    It’s here they got the range
    and the machinery for change
    and it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
    It’s here the family’s broken
    and it’s here the lonely say
    that the heart has got to open
    in a fundamental way:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

    It’s coming from the women and the men.
    O baby, we’ll be making love again.
    We’ll be going down so deep
    the river’s going to weep,
    and the mountain’s going to shout Amen!
    It’s coming like the tidal flood
    beneath the lunar sway,
    imperial, mysterious,
    in amorous array:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

    Sail on, sail on …

    I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean
    I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
    And I’m neither left or right
    I’m just staying home tonight,
    getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
    But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
    that Time cannot decay,
    I’m junk but I’m still holding up
    this little wild bouquet:
    Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

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