Aneurythm

I can’t get this one out of my head.

A strange song to have on one’s mind on a Tuesday morning, but there it is.

They used to play this at the close of the CCNL craft fairs. An odd choice, apart from the title. Of course, if you’ve done a craft fair or two, you understand the exhaustion and elation that come with the whole thing being over, so I guess it’s more applicable than one might suspect at first glance. Frankly, it was one of the highlights of take-down for me.

Run-time 5:53. Lyrics below.

Closing Time (Leonard Cohen)

Ah we’re drinking and we’re dancing
and the band is really happening
and the Johnny Walker wisdom running high
And my very sweet companion
she’s the Angel of Compassion
she’s rubbing half the world against her thigh

And every drinker every dancer
lifts a happy face to thank her
the fiddler fiddles something so sublime

all the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it’s partner found, it’s partner lost
and it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops:

it’s CLOSING TIME

Yeah the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it’s partner found, it’s partner lost
and it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops:

it’s CLOSING TIME

Ah we’re lonely, we’re romantic
and the cider’s laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit’s crying, “Where’s the beef?”

And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief

So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime

and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can’t say much has happened since

but CLOSING TIME

I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can’t say much has happened since

CLOSING TIME

I loved you for your beauty
but that doesn’t make a fool of me:
you were in it for your beauty too

and I loved you for your body
there’s a voice that sounds like God to me
declaring, declaring, declaring that your body’s really you

And I loved you when our love was blessed
and I love you now there’s nothing left
but sorrow and a sense of overtime
and I missed you since the place got wrecked
And I just don’t care what happens next
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it’s something in between, I guess

it’s CLOSING TIME

Yeah I missed you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex
looks like freedom but it feels like death
it’s something in between, I guess

it’s CLOSING TIME

Yeah we’re drinking and we’re dancing
but there’s nothing really happening
and the place is dead as Heaven on a Saturday night

And my very close companion
gets me fumbling gets me laughing
she’s a hundred but she’s wearing
something tight

and I lift my glass to the Awful Truth
which you can’t reveal to the Ears of Youth
except to say it isn’t worth a dime

And the whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it’s once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don’t like these dizzy heights
we’re busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights

of CLOSING TIME

The whole damn place goes crazy twice
and it’s once for the devil and once for Christ
but the Boss don’t like these dizzy heights
we’re busted in the blinding lights,
busted in the blinding lights

of CLOSING TIME

Oh the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots

It’s CLOSING TIME

And it’s partner found, it’s partner lost
and it’s hell to pay when the fiddler stops

It’s CLOSING TIME

I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss

It’s CLOSING TIME

The Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can’t say much has happened since

But CLOSING TIME

I loved you when our love was blessed
I love you now there’s nothing left

But CLOSING TIME

I miss you since the place got wrecked
By the winds of change and the weeds of sex.

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4 Comments Add yours

  1. This, of course, is the last song, sung by all performers, at the Feast of Cohen, an awe-inspiring tribute concert annually given by a passel of local performers:

    http://www.leonardcohenforum.com/viewtopic.php?p=76029

    I don’t see the oddness of playing at the end of the fair: sounds like a good last spurt of energy to get everything clued up.

  2. arlee says:

    SNARF! Does this ever prompt some memories! A theme song during my early 40’s, it covered a lot of situations!

  3. rewolf says:

    all the women tear their blouses off
    and the men they dance on the polka-dots

    Clearly, craft fairs are much more exciting up there!

  4. VickyTH says:

    Yeah, but booth fes and admission are a killer. (just kidding)
    Seriously? The kind of stuff in the song is more a Saturday night thing, the night we all have off and hit the town.

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