I Have had a hard life, but so hasent everybody else,
I try to forget the pain, but im afraid of the result going against the grain,i still have to be true to myself, relationships have come and gone, making it hard for life in my lane to just go along with a flow i haven't been able to stay on for so long, honestly i care, but its hard to not be scared, when the reality and truth has been, hidden, forbidden, now were are the people that said they cared?  are they there? maybe im delusional in this world , but everybody makes references and insults and get suprised when ***** pops off in the mist of the air, tell me what it feels like being that kid sitting over there, trust me, ive been there ive done that **** was never fair, but realize those kids end up killed or in jail, dont feel left out, dont set your self to fail, cause they act like punks and claim they get the best *******, but they turn they back on a homie when **** switches, and the watch an chain he wearin aint real, he stole it from that homeless innocent woman with not a dime to spill, so think about it, and let this **** set in, cause i know these words that im spewing ill never be forgettin, people these days have no ******* morals, back in the day there was a way to get along without needing money in ya pocket, im trying to capture every good moment i have, maybd put it in neckless and lock it, hold it tight in my heart, but burn so these hater can never grin at the truth,. they cant **** with my furnance, wich is the root ofmy heart, and ill never let anybody change me or rip my family apart,

It is copyright © Leonard Cohen 2006 and Jacket magazine 2007.
Takanawa Prince Hotel Bar

Slipping down into the Pure Land
into the Awakened State of Drunk
into the furnance blue Heart of the
one one one true Allah the Beloved
Companion of Dangerous Moods–
Slipping down into the 27 Hells
of my own religion my own sweet
dark religion of drunk religion
my bended knee of Poetry my robes
my bowl my scourge of Poetry
my final circumcision after
the circumcision of the flesh
and the circumcision of the heart
and the circumcision of the yearning
to Return to be Redeemed
to be Washed to be Forgiven Again
the Final Circumcision the Final
and Great Circumcision–
Broken down awhile
and cowarding
in the blasting rays
of Hideous Enlightenment
but now finally surrendered to the Great
Resignation of Poetry
and not the kind of Wise Experience
or the false kisses of Competitive
Insight, but my own sweet dark
religion of Poetry my ***** prize
my sandals and my shameful prayer
my invisible Mexican candle
my useless oils to clean the house
and remove my rival’s spell
on my girlfriend’s memory–
O Poetry my Final Circumcision:
All the pain was in fearing
and ignoring the girl’s voice
and the girl’s touch and the girl’s
fragrant humbling girlishness
which was lost three wars ago–
And O my love I love you again
I am your dog your cat
your Cleopatran snake
I am bleeding painlessly
from the Final Formless Circumcision
as I push up your dress a little way
and kiss your miraculously
lactating knee
And may all of you who watch
and G-d forbid!
are in a suffering predicament
as I go sliding down to Love–
may you speedily be embraced by
the girlishness of your own
dark girlish religion

Days drag on
When that fireball
Melts and Molds your pain.
Light can't be chosen,
It's forced upon one
Free of their will.
Instead of just suffering,
People suffer in heat.
They toil and strain,
Feeling the pains
Of eternity's beat.
Hopes are few
When one hero
Outshines them all.

Nights don't drag,
They pass too soon.
It's only when that
Corrupted furnance
Is laid to rest
That we can heal our wounds.
The night brings with it
Many heroes of different
Lights and groupings.
Soft darkness
Caressing thy internal bliss,
Moons and stars
Reminding me that
All but nothing is amiss.
But the best part of all
Are the tiny heroes that fall,
For their descent lets us
Wish upon them
A better tomorrow.

I wonder,
were we...
Roman lovers?
with laurel wreathes
and toga covers?
Or maybe
we were
cowboy robbers?
Maybe we were
outlawed 'shiners.
I just know that
I know you
from somewhere.
This isn't
the first go-round
for you
and me.
We were something
before
in some kind of
capacity  
Maybe we we're royalty.
Maybe you were
betrothed to me;
maybe we fought,
and maybe you ruled,
and maybe my father
gave me over
to you.
I'll bet you were older, still.
I bet
I still argued with you.
I bet
I still kissed you
like I had
always loved you.
Maybe you
were married
Maybe I
was, too.
Maybe
we were strangers,
or secrets from others,
Maybe I married you.
Maybe we had sons.
Each
just as handsome
and strong as
the next one.
Maybe I worked
for you,
with you,
or against you.
Maybe I cracked your shell,
Maybe you made me fall,
maybe we were
the other's glue.
and I bet
we still looked
Just like we do now.
I bet your eyes
were that syrupy
blue suede goo
And I bet
I still wanted you.
Needed you.
Baited you.
Waited and stayed with you.
I bet I still strung
your world
on a string.
And I bet in
whatever
lifetime it was,
we had the very best of
everything.
I bet we were a team.
I bet we still
undid
the other at the seams.
I bet you
woulda died for me,
Robin Hood.
I bet you were a knight
with cool armor
and a sword.
Or maybe
I took care of you,
Maybe we met
in a tent,  
you in camo
stained with blood,
a white skirt
to my knees.
Maybe
I saved you.
Maybe you
saved me.
Maybe you're
my Daddy Warbucks,
I always did find him
****.
Maybe
we were patriots
and met
in a tavern.
maybe on the
Titanic
and you spoke
German  
Maybe
we were neighbors.
Maybe you
were my professor,
Dr. Indiana Jones.
Just as ****
in a classroom
as you'd be  
scoping out a tomb.
There's something you emit
that draws me back
to a moment
that's blurry and distant
but I know that
I miss it.
If a thousand years ago
you ran
your fingers
through my hair.
or two hundred and twenty
since the last time
our flame flared,
we're burning hot as
and been in business
just the same as
Hell's furnance.
Unpredictable
as Vesuvius
I think by now
my old soul
can smell yours
a mile
away.
I think your eyes
spill your secrets
like broken
flood gates.
I think I've seen
every micro
expression cross your face
at one point in
all of my
foggy visions,
and I breathe in
the vapors
of what we
can't remember
and I'm soggy
in your arms.
Who knows
how many of my lifetimes
you've already charmed.
And still I want you.
And need you.
And bait you.
Wait and stay
with you.
Behind closed doors
we could fill a room
with the ghosts from our histories.
I can remember that
the moment
you kiss me.
This alchemy
has existed
for centuries.

I am a lump of coal,
             -You are the spark,
That ignites my heart into a burning furnance.