Wednesday, September 29, 2010

The Book


The Book





I can’t make the hills
The system is shot
(...)
I followed the course
From chaos to art
Desire the horse
Depression the cart

I sailed like a swan
I sank like a rock
But time is long gone
Past my laughing stock

My page was too white
My ink was too thin
The day wouldn’t write
What the night pencilled in

My animal howls
My angel’s upset
But I’m not allowed
A trace of regret

(...)

Leonard Cohen

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