The Law

How many times did you call me

And I knew it was late

I left everybody

But I never went straight

I don’t claim to be guilty

But I do understand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

Now my heart’s like a blister

From doing what I do

If the moon has a sister

It’s got to be you

I’m going to miss you forever

Tho’ it’s not what I planned

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

Now the deal has been dirty

Since dirty began

I’m not asking for mercy

Not from the man

You just don’t ask for mercy

While you’re still on the stand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

I don’t claim to be guilty

Guilty’s too grand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

That’s all I can say, baby

That’s all I can say

It wasn’t for nothing

That they put me away

I fell with my angel

Down the chain of command

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

There’s a Law, there’s an Arm, there’s a Hand

This song from Various Positions (1984) may have a title that is a direct translation of the Hebrew word Torah (used to describe the first five books of the Bible), but it is not a religious song. Indeed, some of its ideas are heretical – “I fell with my angel” contradicts the Jewish principle that angels can neither improve nor deteriorate while the suggestion that “you just don’t ask for mercy / while you’re still on the stand” is at odds with Catholic theology and practice. Given that Cohen has said that this song has “got something to do with the fact that there are consequences to our activities”, we may conclude that inso far as the song contains spiritual wisdom it is humanistic wisdom not religious.

The Letters

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 loss, the 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.

Co-written by Sharon Robinson, this song was included on Dear Heather (2004). The phrase “I said there’d been a flood / I said there’s nothing left” may be an oblique reference to the apocalyptic vision Cohen expressed in ‘The Future’, though it is of course a worldview that he has implicitly or explicitly expressed throughout his career.

The Old Revolution

I finally broke into the prison,

I found my place in the chain.

Even damnation is poisoned with rainbows,

all the brave young men

they’re waiting now to see a signal

which some killer will be lighting for pay.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture,

you whom I cannot betray.

I fought in the old revolution

on the side of the ghost and the King.

Of course I was very young

and I thought that we were winning;

I can’t pretend I still feel very much like singing

as they carry the bodies away.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...

Lately you’ve started to stutter

as though you had nothing to say.

To all of my architects let me be traitor.

Now let me say I myself gave the order

to sleep and to search and to destroy.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...

Yes, you who are broken by power,

you who are absent all day,

you who are kings for the sake of your children’s story,

the hand of your beggar is burdened down with money,

the hand of your lover is clay.

Into this furnace I ask you now to venture...

This song, included on Songs From A Room (1969), uses political language but does not address social themes. But, although the song feels chock full of meaning, it is not clear what exactly it does address. That Cohen has not played the song live since its release suggests that its ambiguity has strayed over the boundary into imprecision, that the poet has indeed “started to stutter …”.

The Smokey Life

I’ve never seen your eyes so wide

I’ve never seen your appetite quite this occupied

Elsewhere is your feast of love

I know ... where long ago we agreed to keep it light

So lets be married one more night

It’s light, light enough

To let it go

It’s light enough to let it go

Remember when the scenery started fading

I held you till you learned to walk on air

So don’t look down the ground is gone,

there’s no one waiting anyway

The Smoky Life is practiced

Everywhere

So set your restless heart at ease

Take a lesson from these Autumn leaves

They waste no time waiting for the snow

Don’t argue now you’ll be late

There is nothing to investigate

It’s light enough, light enough

To let it go

Light enough to let it go

Remember when the scenery started fading

I held you til you learned to walk on air

So don’t look down the ground is gone,

there’s no one waiting anyway

The Smoky Life is practiced everywhere

Come on back if the moment lends

You can look up all my very closest friends

Light, light enough

To let it go

It’s light enough to let it go

Played on Cohen’s 1975 tour under the title ‘I Guess It’s Time’ and co-credited to John Lissauer, the version included on Recent Songs (1979) is credited solely to Cohen. The notion that “the smokey life” refers to drug use is not only simplistic