1934 (A Song for Leonard Cohen)

I would have been your lover
Probably not more
My survival skills
Would have danced me to the door
But for a time I’d be your muse
Let me amuse you with the image
Up the hill in hydra
Or down in greenwich village
And the sun would turn me olive
And I’d pose for the sleeve
The cold would keep us warm
Under blankets, thick as thieves
Sólo es música
A poor man’s prose
Sólo es música
A rich man’s woes
I’d be high on hormones
You’d be low on cash
We’d uncork a bottle
Smoke into the stash
Just when I’d feel like I’d arrived
You’d say you have to leave
I’d be left looking at myself
On your record sleeve
And I’d grow jealous of Olivia
And of your olivetti
Stop playing the artist, Lenny
«I tried, but he won’t let me»
Sólo es música
A poor man’s prose
Sólo es música
A rich man’s woes
I try to take it stoically
We all take what we can
How it feels to be the lady
Of a ladies' man
Head held high I walk this town
I’ve taken what I can
And I still hear you whisper to me
«I'm your man»
Yes, I would have been your lover
No, I wouldn’t ask for more
It’s just shame that you were born
In 1934
Sólo es música
A poor man’s prose
Sólo es música
Just a rich man’s woes