Swept under an ornate rug
Lies the Best of Leonard Cohen
In little black pieces
She invited a stranger
To American dinner
He brought a record
He stayed too long
He quoted indiscriminately…
Suzanne takes you down
And who by fire
It’s four in the morning
At the
In the old Italian villa
The rug tells the story
Her husband grew impatient
The stranger wouldn’t stop
The husband walked in rage
To the old record player
He lifted the needle
He took the record
And broke it over his knee
To a place by the river
And who by water
The end of December
I remember you well
From the old Italian villa
The stranger ran away
Drunk and full of lyrics
And American food
The woman watched the stranger
Run into the night
The husband closed his eyes
Cursed by Leonard forever
But still with his wife
Who feeds him tea and oranges
On an unmade bed
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