Cohen

Its quiet this evening
In old Montreal
The son of Quebec          
Joins a massing throng

His song
Plays in rhe minds of those who knew

And in a small cafe
Suzanne sashays in silence      
He follows
Her hand outstretched            
She beckons to the darker side
Of pleasure

Hallelujah
Hallelujah

And rest within the tower of song
Welcomes this soul home
As flowers wilt upon the sill
Of the window

Against a picture of The Future...

tcmoon