Leonard Cohen, seventy four, not a prophet, Oh No.

There ain’t no cure for Love.
Suzanne takes you down
Place near the River.
Feeds you tea and oranges.
Hallelujah.
The Dice are loaded. Every body knows
No way to say goodbye.
Crack in Everything.
A thousand kisses deep.
Dance me to the End of Love.
Hook nose. Scrunched fedora.
Black suit.
Trim old Grey Hair.
Three sweet singers.
Angel girls when required.
(Sharon Robinson with two sisters.)
Saxaphone. Wind instrument.
Agile lead guitar. Spanish classical
Up his sleeve.
Harmonica reminisces.
Bassist foundation search.
Keyboard, like Black Church.
Tinkling or throbbing.
Troubadour sobbing.
Had some hard times.
Tambourine, harmony, chimes
Anonymity years in Montreal.
Starving poet. Real things.
Know it, Folks. He brings.
Manager stole it all.
And now…
The concert Tour
Having a ball!
canadian Jewish heart
On call.
Universal Pal. Takes hat off for thanks.
Still making Love, in my Secret Life.
Bless You.
(From the Bloody Cross
to the Beach at Malibu.)


See this music link

https://youtu.be/c8-BT6y_wYg

https://heroesanywhere46.blogspot.com/2023/03/leonard-cohen-again-thousand-kisses-deep.html

https://heroesanywhere46.blogspot.com/2023/03/leonard-big-london-engagement.html