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作曲 : Leonard Cohen |
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作词 : Leonard Cohen |
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I believe that you heard your master sing |
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when I was sick in bed. |
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I suppose that he told you everything |
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that I keep locked away in my head. |
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Your master took you travelling' |
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well at least that's what you said. |
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And now do you come back to bring |
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your prisoner wine and bread? |
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You met him at some temple' where |
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they take your clothes at the door. |
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He was just a numberless man in a chair |
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who'd just come back from the war. |
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And you wrap up his tired face in your hair |
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and he hands you the apple core. |
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Then he touches your lips now so suddenly bare |
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of all the kisses we put on some time before. |
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And he gave you a German Shepherd to walk |
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with a collar of leather and nails' |
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and he never once made you explain or talk |
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about all of the little details' |
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such as who had a word and who had a rock' |
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and who had you through the mails. |
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Now your love is a secret all over the block' |
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and it never stops not even when your master fails. |
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And he took you up in his aeroplane' |
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which he flew without any hands' |
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and you cruised above the ribbons of rain |
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that drove the crowd from the stands. |
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Then he killed the lights in a lonely Lane |
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and' an ape with angel glands' |
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erased the final wisps of pain |
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with the music of rubber bands. |
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|
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And now I hear your master sing' |
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you kneel for him to come. |
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His body is a golden string |
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|
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that your body is hanging from. |
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His body is a golden string' |
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my body has grown numb. |
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Oh now you hear your master sing' |
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your shirt is all undone. |
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And will you kneel beside this bed |
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that we polished so long ago' |
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before your master chose instead |
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|
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to make my bed of snow? |
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Your eyes are wild and your knuckles are red |
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and you're speaking far too low. |
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No I can't make out what your master said |
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before he made you go. |
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Then I think you're playing far too rough |
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for a lady who's been to the moon; |
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I've lain by this window long enough |
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to get used to an empty room. |
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And your love is some dust in an old man's cough |
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who is tapping his foot to a tune' |
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and your thighs are a ruin' you want too much' |
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let's say you came back some time too soon. |
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I loved your master perfectly |
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I taught him all that he knew. |
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He was starving in some deep mystery |
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like a man who is sure what is true. |
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And I sent you to him with my guarantee |
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I could teach him something new' |
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and I taught him how you would long for me |
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no matter what he said no matter what you'd do. |
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I believe that you heard your master sing |
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while I was sick in bed' |
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I'm sure that he told you everything |
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I must keep locked away in my head. |
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Your master took you travelling' |
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well at least that's what you said' |
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And now do you come back to bring |
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your prisoner wine and bread? |
