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Leonard Cohen ~ Field Commander Cohen


Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy. Wounded in the line of duty, Parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, Urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles. Leave it all and like a man, Come back to nothing special, Such as waiting rooms and ticket lines, Silver bullet suicides, And messianic ocean tides, And racial roller-coaster rides And other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard. But many men are falling, Where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. But then I overheard your prayer, That you be this and nothing more Than just some grateful faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, The patron Saint of envy and the grocer of despair, Working for the Yankee Dollar. I know you need your sleep now ... Ah, lover come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are, And be your sweetest self awhile until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be wrong, yeah, let them manifest and come Till every taste is on the tongue, Till love is pierced and love is hung, And every kind of freedom done, then oh, Oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, Oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. more free lyrics

Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy.
Wounded in the line of duty,
Parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties,
Urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles.
Leave it all and like a man,
Come back to nothing special,
Such as waiting rooms and ticket lines,
Silver bullet suicides,
And messianic ocean tides,
And racial roller-coaster rides
And other forms of boredom advertised as poetry.

I know you need your sleep now,
I know your life's been hard.
But many men are falling,
Where you promised to stand guard.

I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor.
But then I overheard your prayer,
That you be this and nothing more
Than just some grateful faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire,
The patron Saint of envy and the grocer of despair,
Working for the Yankee Dollar.

I know you need your sleep now ...

Ah, lover come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are,
And be your sweetest self awhile until I ask for more, my child.
Then let the other selves be wrong, yeah, let them manifest and come
Till every taste is on the tongue,
Till love is pierced and love is hung,
And every kind of freedom done, then oh,
Oh my love, oh my love, oh my love,
Oh my love, oh my love, oh my love.

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When the lights dim and the first note is played, strangers become synchronized. The tremor when thousands sing together, and the melody that still echoes after the crowd disperses - this is an experience that no screen can convey. We look forward to the return of large-scale concerts to the essence of music, and we also look forward to small livehouses continuing to nourish the most vibrant soil of music.

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The future of global music is not determined by algorithms, nor is it monopolized by a few giants. It is shaped by every person who presses the play button. Maintain your curiosity, step out of your comfort zone. Support independent musicians and attend live performances. Seek connections through music - because we believe that a song can change a day, and music can change the world.

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