Bells
I'm writing this to say goodbye
To what you never should reply
That all of the Lords and Demons that you leave
I stand entirely alone
That is to say your loving me
Would be our only crime
And isn't it a pity
You can see all her beauty clearly
In the midst of some grey city
In the midst of all this love
Many men have loved the bells
You fastened to the rain
And everyone who wanted you
Found what she would always want again
And I'd have been the dust for you
And I'd have been the grass for you
But you tell me with your beauty
You can see her duty clearly
In the midst of New-York-City
In the midst of all my love
Your body like a searchlight
In the prison of my need
Oh I would share your loneliness
And I demand your greed
And everything depends upon
How near you sleep to me
And isn't it a pity
You can see all her duty clearly
In the midst of New-York-City
In the midst of all our love.
I will be writing this
When you are so very young again
That the forests that you burned away
And then sailed away are truly truly gone
I will be waiting where a starfish is your head
And the jewels for your shoulders
Fall through the walls of sand
Fall through the walls of sand.
To what you never should reply
That all of the Lords and Demons that you leave
I stand entirely alone
That is to say your loving me
Would be our only crime
And isn't it a pity
You can see all her beauty clearly
In the midst of some grey city
In the midst of all this love
Many men have loved the bells
You fastened to the rain
And everyone who wanted you
Found what she would always want again
And I'd have been the dust for you
And I'd have been the grass for you
But you tell me with your beauty
You can see her duty clearly
In the midst of New-York-City
In the midst of all my love
Your body like a searchlight
In the prison of my need
Oh I would share your loneliness
And I demand your greed
And everything depends upon
How near you sleep to me
And isn't it a pity
You can see all her duty clearly
In the midst of New-York-City
In the midst of all our love.
I will be writing this
When you are so very young again
That the forests that you burned away
And then sailed away are truly truly gone
I will be waiting where a starfish is your head
And the jewels for your shoulders
Fall through the walls of sand
Fall through the walls of sand.
Credits
Writer(s): Leonard Cohen
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