Words and music by Leonard Cohen and Sharon Robinson
You never liked to get
The letters that I sent.
But now you ve got the gist
Of what my letters meant.
You re reading them again
The ones you didn t burn.
You press them to your lips
My pages of concern.
I said there d been a flood.
I said there s nothing left.
I hoped that you would come.
I gave you my address.
Your story was so long
The plot was so intense
It took you years to cross
The lines of self-defense.
The wounded forms appear:
The lossthe full extent;
And simple kindness here
The solitude of strength.
You walk into my room.
You stand there at my desk
Begin your letter to
The one who s coming next.

- Back to the Songs of the Album Dear Heather

- Back to the Leonard Cohen's Albums