Stories Of The Street

Stories Of The Street - Leonard Cohen (莱昂纳德·科恩)

The stories of the street are mine

The spanish voices laugh

The cadillacs go creeping down

Through the night and the poison gas

I lean from mu window sill

In this old hotel I chose

Yes one hand on my suicide

And one hand on the rose

I know youve heard its over now

And war must surely come

The cities they are broke in half

And the middle men are gone

But let me ask you one more time

O children of the dust

These hunters who are shrieking now

Do they speak for us

And where do all these highways go

Now that we are free

Why are the armies marching still

That were coming home to me

O lady with your legs so fine

O stranger at your wheel

You are locked into your suffering

And your pleasures are the seal

The age of lust is giving birth

But both the parents ask the nurse

To tell them fairy tales on

Both sides of the glass

Now the infant with his cord

Is hauled in like a kite

And one eye filled with blueprints

One eye filled with night

O come with me my little one

And we will find that farm

And grow us grass and apples there

To keep all the animals warm

And if by chance I wake at night

And I ask you who I am

O take me to the slaughter house

I will wait there with the lamb

With one hand on a hexagram

And one hand on a girl

I balance on a wishing well

That all men call the world

We are so small between the stars

So large against the sky

And lost among the subway crowds

I try to catch your eye