November 25, 2008

Anthems for Our Time: "And it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops."

I loved you when our love was blessed,
And I love you now there's nothing left,
But sorrow and a sense of overtime.
And I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex.
Looks like freedom but it feels like death.
It's something in betwen, I guess.
It's closing time

We're drinking and we're dancing,
But there's nothing really happening.
The place is dead as heaven on a Saturday night.
And my very close companion
Gets me fumbling, gets me laughing,
Shes a hundred but shes wearing
Something tight.

I lift my glass to the awful truth,
Which you cant reveal to the ears of youth,
Except to say it isn,t worth a dime.
And the whole damn place goes crazy twice,
And its once for the devil and its once for Christ.
But the boss don't like these dizzy heights.
We're busted in the blinding lights
Of closing time.

-- Leonard Cohen | Closing Time

Posted by Vanderleun at November 25, 2008 12:01 AM
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