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
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