Blessed Is the Memory
or (The Memory of) Everybodys Child
1967 outtake, bonus of Songs of Leonard Cohen 2007

 

I remember the promise
that you made in the barn
when the kittens were born
and you could not keep warm
so you moved away the mountain
that the sun rose behind
and you said yourself a prayer
and laid down with the blind
but you lost them in your freedom
and you need him now you're wild
blessed is the memory
of everybody's child

And the vow of compassion
that you swore through your teeth
when the war began to end
and the photographs weep
well nobody blames you
as the train pulls away
with its cargo of snow
for these German paper-weights
but you lost them in your freedom
and you need him now you're wild
blessed is the memory
of everybody's child

Well it's five in the morning
there's no one at home
except for your wife
and your child on the phone
somebody's got to listen
to a promise or two
oh, this room is far too small
for a pilgrim like you
but you lost them in your freedom
and you need him now you're wild
blessed is the memory
of everybody's child

So now that you've decided
to follow the sun
like a shadow of birds
or a king on the run
oh, your chains are too dark
for the seas you must swim
you're smiling at the seaweed
but your smile is too grim
oh, you lost them in your freedom
you need him now you're wild
blessed is the memory
of everybody's child

Blessed Is the Memory
or (The Memory of) Everybodys Child
1976 Frankfurt, Apr. 25; unknow venue transcription

{ many formerly gaping holes have been filled
- thanks to José Tomás Domínguez }

Yes I remember the promise
That you made in the bar
When the kittens was born
And you could not keep warm
You moved away to a mountain
The sun rose behind
You said yourself a prayer
That you laid down on the blind
You lost them in your freedom
You need 'em now you're wild
Blessed is the memory
Of everybody's child.

And the vow of compassion
That ya swore through your teeth
When the war began to end
And the little brown photographs weep
Nobody believe it only
But as the train pulls away
With its cargo of folly
Sold as German paperweights
Costing you your freedom,
Even now you're wild
Blessed is the memory
Of everybody's child

Well it's four in the morning
And there's no one at home
Except for your wife
And your little baby on the phone
Ah, somebody's gotta listen
To a promise or two
This room is far too small
For a pilgrim like you
They're offering you your freedom,
Yeah you need 'em now - you're wild
Blessed is the memory
Of everybody's child.

Ah, but now that you've decided
To follow the sun,
Like a shadow of waiting there
Or a king on the run
Your chains are too tight
For these seas you must swim.
You're smiling at the seaweed,
But your smile is much too grim.
Costing you your freedom, yeah,
Even now you're wild,
But blessed is the memory
Of eveybody's child

 

 

 

 

Sí, recordo la promesa
Que vas fer al bar graner
Quan van néixer els gatets
I no podies mantenir l'escalfor
T'has anat lluny a una muntanya
El sol va sortir darrere
Vas dir-te una oració
Que vas disposar en la ceguesa
En aquell moment vas perdre la llibertat
La necessites ara que ets salvatge
Beneïda sigui la memòria
Del nen de tots.

I el vot de la compassió
Això vas jurar a través de les dents
Quan la guerra anava acabant
I les petites fotografies marrons ploren
Ningú creu que només / et culpa
Però com el tren s'allunya
Amb la seva càrrega de bogeria / neu
Aquells / Es ven com petjapapers alemanys
Vas perdre / Que costa la teva llibertat
La necessites / Fins i tot ara que ets salvatge
Beneïda sigui la memòria
Del nen de tots.

Bé són les cinc / quatre de la matinada
I no hi ha ningú a casa
A excepció de la teva dona
I el teu petit nadó al telèfon
Ah, algú ha d'escoltar
Per a una promesa o dues
Aquesta habitació és massa petita
Per a un pelegrí com tu
T'ofereixen la teva llibertat
Si els necessites ara - que ets salvatge
Beneïda sigui la memòria
De nen de tots.

Ah, però ara que has decidit
Seguir el sol
Com una ombra esperant allà
O un rei en la carrera
Les teves cadenes són massa estrets
Per aquests mars que has de nedar
Estàs somrient a les algues
Però el teu seu somriure està massa apagat
Costa la teva llibertat, sí
Fins i tot ara que ets salvatge
Però beneït sigui la memòria
Del nen de tots.

Store Room
1967 outtake, bonus of Songs of Leonard Cohen 2007

1 - It's not the wind that keeps you up, it's not the snow
It's not the moon coming like a headlight through your window
It's not the thumbnail of a screen that scrapes away your dream

It's just this man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

2 - It's not the news of burning towns that ruins your mind
like a spoon you turn and you turn but it won't unwind
Though these wars you did not start they dont tear your sleep apart

It's just a man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

3 - And now this woman by your side well she's asleep
And there's nothing you can give her,
and there's nothing you want to keep
You don't even try to prove that the noise is neighbours making love.

It's just a man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

4 - Well go to sleep and change the locks when you wake up
Share your toast maybe spill some coffee from your cup
Oh theres nothing left to choose and there is so much more to loose.

Theres this man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

[repeat 1 - 2]

3 - And now the woman by your side well she's awake
But there's nothing you can give her,
and there's nothing you want to take
You don't even try to prove that the noise is neighbours making love.

It's just a man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

4 - Oh go to sleep and change the locks when you wake up
Share your toast maybe spill a little coffee from your cup
Hes got nothing left to choose and youve got so much more to loose.

It's just a man,
Taking what he needs,
From the store room,

Its not the wind...

 

 

 

 

Store Room
Leonard Cohen: Canciones y nuevos poemas 2, 1988, pag.122
Alberto Manzano

5 - 6 - 7

9 - Oh, my God, let us continue what has been begun
Bring forh the mother and the father, the daughter and the son
But should one refuse to come out

1 - It's not the moon that keeps you up, it's not the snow
It's not the moon coming like a headlight through your window
It's not the long nail of a screen that scrapes away your dream

Store Room
1976 tour: Paris June 6, Montreux June 25 (the transcripted)

5 - I love you without really caring whom you love
Yeah my hands below the belt; or my hands above
In the arms of other men; or in my bed again

It's Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room.

6 - Oh, I love to see you sitting there upon your golden throne
Your little preachers all around you
Being born and your prophet, straight and tall to undermine it all

Just a man taking
What he needs
From your store room, store room!

7 - Yeah old Shakespeare he said it all, and he said no more
And he left me feeling just like a two bit whore
Well the silence it broke my heart
'Till I spread my legs apart

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room, store room!

8 - Refusing to keep on (..)once appeared
In a period that haunts you (..)
The prophet in the wild, the parent in the child.

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room, store room, store room!

9 - Oh, my love, let us continue what has been begun
Praying for [or bringing for]:
the mother and the father, the daughter and the son
But should one refuse to come [come out]
It does not subtract the sum

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room, store room, store room!

1 - It's not a wind that keeps you up, it's not the snow
It's not the moon - coming like a headlight through your window
No these wars that you did not stop,
they do not tear your sleep apart.

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room, store room, store room!

3 - Yeah can a woman when she's by your side, and she's awake?
But there's nothing you want to give her,
And there's nothing that you really want to take.
You don't even try to prove that the noisy neighbour is making love.

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the storeroom, store room, store room! [Paris ends here]

10 - And the news of all these burning towns - you don't really mind
Just a spool that you turn, and you turn - and he won't unwind
You know these wars - that you did not start -
they do not tear your sleep apart

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room,

11 - I loved you, without really caring who it is you love
My hands below the belt; or my hands above
In the arms of other men; or in my bed again

Just a man taking
What he needs
From the store room, store room.

There Is No Reason Why

The previous video was banned by a SME claim, this one probably is a montage.

1968 unreleased BBC Sep. 7

Now I'm going to give you a second chance. { ha -how? { whispered } }

This is the formula in which you can articulate the very worst kind of anxieties, fears, short-circuits, between all possible relationships, and by singing it, with me, you will resolve all those things and everthing will be straight, you'll be straighter than you've ever been you can really look at the person next to you, and things will be so good, really.

No it wasn't any good
There's no reason why you should
Remember me

No it wasn't any good
There's no reason why you should
Remember me

No it wasn't any good
There's no reason why you should
Remember me

No it wasn't any good
There's no reason why you should
Remember me

(once more)

No it wasn't any good
There's no reason why you should
Remember me

Celebration (When You Kneel Below Me)
From The Spice-Box Of Earth (1961) by Leonard Cohen

1970 Frankfurt, May 6

When you kneel below me,
and in both your hands
hold thy Manhood like a scepter

When you wrapped your tongue
about the amber jewel
that urge my blessing

Then I understand those Roman Girls
who danced around a shaft of stone
and kissed it till the stone was warm.

Kneel love, a thousand feet below me,
so far I can barely see your mouth and hands
perform the ceremony.

Kneel till I topple to your back
with a groan, like those Gods on the roof
that Samson pulled down.

{ starts playing "Hey, That's No Way To Say Goodbye". }

 

Celebració

Quan t'agenolles davant meu,
I amb les teves dues mans
Sostens la meva virilitat com un ceptre

Quan emboliques amb la teva la llengua
la joia d'àmbar
que incita la meva benedicció

Entenc aquelles noies romanes
ballant al voltant d'una columna de pedra
I la besaren fins que la pedra es va escalfar.

Agenolla't, amor, mil peus davant meu,
tan lluny que gairebé no puc veure la teva boca ni les mans
Realitzant la cerimònia.

Agenolla't fins que caigui sobre les teves esquenes
amb un grunyit, com aquell déus en la taulada
que Samsó enderrocà.

 

Sing Another Song, Boys
1970 Frankfurt, May 06

Lenny: Key note ...
Girl: (sings a key note) da da da
Lenny: [..?..]
Girl: -sure.
Lenny: This is a song about a man and a woman,
and, it's called Lets Sing Another Song Boys.
And, in an exam, I think i'll give this one, like,
- a German [DocShould(??)] thesis.
And, the song pertains to, dissect,
the intimate connections, in the ordinary relationship.
Coming to no satisfactory conclusions,
the author, of the melody, abandons it,
and begins another song.

Hence the title - "Let's Sing Another Song, Boys"-

At which point, in the authors mind, he envisages
the audience, rising to their feet, their throats burning,
and singing the new song, - which speaks of the ends
of all the tyrannies that we place upon each other
in the living room, and the song is completed
in a great triumphal march, on the Bastile

[starts strumming]
[ someone says: "Bob Dylan, Reverend"
[Lenny screws-up, stops strumming
"Reese (?) - I'm lost without you".
continues:... ]
This is still the same song.
Keep in mind what I said.
{ starts again }
"Reese, that does sound like you..."
{ yeah man, .. }

Ah now his fingernails, I see they're broken,
His ships they're all on fire.
The moneylender's lovely little daughter
Ah, she's eaten, she's eaten with desire.
She hails him with a microphone
That some poor singer, just like me, had to leave her.
She hails him with a microphone
That she got from the pawnshops of father.
She tempts him with a clarinet,
She waves a Nazi dagger.
Ah, She finds him, He's lying in a heap;
She wants to be his woman.
He says "Yes, I just might go to sleep
But kindly leave, leave the future,
Leave it open."

He stands where it is steep,
And I guess he thinks that he's the very first one,
His hands upon his belt now
Like it was the wheel of some big ocean liner.
And she will learn to touch herself so well
As all the sails burn down like paper.
And he has lit the chain, now
And of his famous cigarillo.
Ah, they'll never, I mean they'll never, ever reach the moon,
At least not the one they're after;
Floating broken on the open sea right now,
And look it carries no survivors.

But lets leave these lovers wondering
Why they cannot have each other,
Here it comes -And Let's Sing Another Song Boys -
This one has grown old and bitter.

Sing Another Song, Boys
1970 Aix-en-Provence, Aug. 2 -> Songs Of Love And hate 1971

(Let's sing another song, boys, this one has grown old and bitter.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Ah his fingernails, I see they're broken,
his ships they're all on fire.
The moneylender's lovely little daughter
ah, she's eaten, she's eaten with desire.
She spies him through the glasses
from the pawnshops of her wicked father.
She hails him with a microphone
that some poor singer, just like me, had to leave her.
She tempts him with a clarinet,
she waves a Nazi dagger.
She finds him lying in a heap;
she wants to be his woman.
He says, "Yes, I might go to sleep
but kindly leave, leave the future,
leave it open."

He stands where it is steep,
oh I guess he thinks that he's the very first one,
his hand upon his leather belt now
like it was the wheel of some big ocean liner.
And she will learn to touch herself so well
as all the sails burn down like paper.
And he has lit the chain
of his famous cigarillo.
Ah, they'll never, they'll never ever reach the moon,
at least not the one that we're after;
it's floating broken on the open sea, look out there, my friends,
and it carries no survivors.

But lets leave these lovers wondering
why they cannot have each other,
and let's sing another song, boys,
this one has grown old and bitter.

 

The Partisan
by Anna Marly and Hy Zaret
Leonard Cohen - 1969 Songs From a Room

The words in French are from the backcover of my Spanish vinyl "Songs From a Room" CBS 1970, and it match with "La complainte du partisan". In some sources we find wrong variations, for example: "mais je n'ai pas peur." [Additions in live between brackets].

Les lletres en francès són de la contraportada de "Songs From a Room" del meu vinil de 1970, coincideixen amb "La complainte du partisan". En alguns llocs podem trobar variacions equivocades, per exemple: "mais je n'ai pas peur". [Adicions en directe]

Thanks to Tuomas Tyorinoja for the following:
"Je dédicate cette chanson aux quatre étudiants assassiné par le ... "
"I dedicate this song to the four students assassinated by [the] ..."
{Leonard was of course referring to the shooting by the Ohio National Guard at Kent State University on May 4th, 1970
of Allison Krause, Bill Schoeder, Jeffrey Miller, and Sandra Scheuer.}
www.twoshakesofalambstail.com/storeroom/transcripts
Similar dedication in 1970 and 1972 tours

 

Transcript of Frankfurt 1970, May 6.

1 - When they poured across the border
I was cautioned to surrender
This I could not do;
I took my gun and vanished

Quan travessaren la frontera
M'aconsellaren rendir-me
Això no ho vaig poder fer;
Vaig agafar el meu fusell i vaig desaparèixer

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

3 - I have changed my name so often
Yes, I've lost my wife and children
But I have many friends,
Some of them are with me [with me right here tonight]

He canviat el meu nom molt sovint
Sí, he perdut a la meva dona i els meus fills
Però tinc molts amics,
Alguns d'ells hi són amb mi [amb mi aquí aquesta nit]

4 - An old woman gave us shelter
Kept us hidden in the garret
Then the soldiers came;
She died without a whisper [without a whisper]

Una àvia ens va donar refugi
Ens va amagar a les golfes
Després van arribar els soldats;
Va morir sense dir un mot [sense un mot]

5 - There were three of us this morning
I'm the only one this evening
But I will go on;
These frontiers are my prison [oh, my prison]

Érem tres aquest matí
Només quedo jo aquesta nit
Però seguiré;
Aquestes fronteres són la meva presó [oh, la meva presó]

6 - Ah, the wind, the wind is blowing
Through these graves the wind is blowing
Freedom soon will come;
Then we'll come from these shadows [aw, these shadows]

Ah el vent, el vent està bufant
A través de les tombes el vent està bufant
Aviat la llibertat vindrà;
Llavors sortirem de d'aquestes ombres [aw, aquestes ombres]

1 - Les Allemands étaient chez moi,
ils me dirent, "Rèsigne toi,"
mais je n'ai pas pu;
j'ai repris mon arme.

3 - J'ai changé cent fois de nom,
j'ai perdu femme et enfants
mais j'ai tant d'amis;
j'ai la France entière.

4 - Un vieil homme dans un grenier
pour la nuit nous a cachés,
les Allemands l'ont pris;
il est mort sans surprise.

6 - Ah, the wind, the wind is blowing
Through the graves the wind is blowing
Freedom soon will come
Then we'll come from these shadows [I mean these shadows]

La complainte du partisan
written in London in 1943 by Emmanuel d'Astier de la Vigérie
(aka "Bernard" in the French Resistance),
adapted musically and sung by Anna Marly in 1963
First English adaptation by Hy Zaret: Song of the French Partisans.

escrita a Londres el 1943 per Emmanuel d'Astier de la Vigérie "Bernard"
musicada i cantada per Anna Marly 1963
Primera adaptació a l'anglès de Hy Zaret: Song of the French Partisans

Jean Fournell has pointed out to me that the meaning changes in Hy Zared's adaptation. In the original text written by Emmanuel d'Astier at the end of the song we understand that when freedom will have come back people will forget the partisans, who will return to the shadows, the shadows meaning the normal life. Nor is there any idea like "vanished" in the first stanza. Joan Baez sings in her version "Into the hills I vanished". - Thanks Jean.

Jean Fournell m'ha assenyalat que hi ha canvis de significat en l'adaptació de Hy Zered. En el text original, escrit per Emmanuel d'Astier, al final de la cançó entenem que quan torni la llibertat la gent s'oblidarà dels partisants, que tornaran a les ombres, el significat de "les ombres" és la vida normal. Tampoc hi ha "vanished" a la primera estrofa. Joan Baez canta en la seva versió "Into the hills I vanished" (En els turons vaig desaparèixer). - Gràcies Jean.

1 - Les All'mands étaient chez moi
On m'a dit "Résigne-toi"
Mais je n'ai pas pu
Et j'ai repris mon arme
The Germans were in my land,
I was told I should give up,
but I just could not.
And I picked up my weapon.

Els alemanys eren a casa meva,
em van dir, "Rendeix-te"
però no vaig poder
I vaig prendre la meva arma.

2 - Personne ne m'a demandé
D'où je viens et où je vais
Vous qui le savez
Effacez mon passage
Nobody has ever asked
whence I come and where I go.
You who know these things,
please wipe out all my traces.

Ningú m'ha preguntat
D'on vinc i on vaig
Vosaltres que ho sabeu
Esborreu el meu pas

3 - J'ai changé cent fois de nom
J'ai perdu femme et enfant
Mais j'ai tant d'amis
Et j'ai la France entière
I've changed my name a hundred times,
wife and children I have lost,
but I've so many friends,
and I have all of France.

He canviat cent vegades de nom,
He perdut esposa i fill
però tinc molts amics;
Tinc tota França.

4 - Un vieil homme dans un grenier
Pour la nuit nous a cachés
Les All'mands l'ont pris
Il est mort sans surprise
An old man in an attic
kept us hidden for the night.
The Germans captured him.
He died without surprise.

Un vell en unes golfes
per a la nit ens va amagar
els alemanys el van agafar;
Va morir sense sorpresa.

5 - Hier encore, nous étions trois
Il ne reste plus que moi
Et je tourne en rond
Dans la prison des frontières
Yesterday we still were three,
I'm the only one that's left,
and I go round and round
in the prison of the borders.

Ahir, érem tres
Només quedo jo
Em giro
En la presó de les fronteres

6 - Le vent souffle sur les tombes
La liberté reviendra
On nous oubliera
Nous rentrerons dans l'ombre
The wind is blowing through the graves,
liberty once will come back,
they'll forget us then!
We'll return to the shadows.

El vent bufa sobre les tombes
La llibertat tornarà
On ens oblidem
Tornarem a entrar dins les ombres

 

Regina
1970 TV Paris May 13

{deep exhalation}
they got it
start it here.
they got it right, we got it.

Regina

And the Holston river sparkles in the moonlight
And the Holston river {door slams} rushes to the sea.
Well the Clinch mountain towers o'r the valley
Still the arms of Regina reach for me.

Ten years ago i tried to slay {? see? save?} the president {?} {hummm humm..}
{ta da da da ta da da da da run (?????) }
{ ah ?? ???? ??? ???? the arms of Regina }
And on her robe I could not tell a lie

I've worked and slaved to be a rock mount {???}{spanish ship?}
And the Brushy Mountain Penitentiary
Now I'm a going back to see Regina
and a {?????} (we need you)
{?????} ... memory

Still the Holston valley sparkles in the moonlight -sunlight
Still the Holston river rushes to the sea
Still the Clinch mountain towers o'r the valley
Still the arms of Regina reach for me.
(let's do that once again)

Still the Holston valley sparkles in the moon light
Still the Holston river rushes through the sea
Still the Clinch mountain towers o'r the valley
Still the arms of Regina reach for me

Still the arms of Regina reach for me....
(let's get out of here.....)

Let's get out of this place (hum hum hum) , What are we....
{ cut }

 

Les Propriétaires de la Révolution
Speech in French, intro Bird on the Wire
1970 Aix-En-Provence, Aug. 2

Je voudrais dire une chose sur le rapport entre les festivals et l'argent. Quan les festivals seront à vous, ils ne seront pas à d'autres. Et si vous m'appelez, si vous m'appelez... Leonard... oui, so vous m'appelez alors je serais là déjà. Mais une chose, il n'y a pas une révolution, quand quelqu'un parle d'une révolution, c'est leur révolution. Laissez la révolution à les propiétaires de la révolution, ils sont comme tous les autres propriétaires, Ils recherchent un profit... Like a bird on the wire

Vull dir alguna cosa sobre la relació entre els festivals i els diners. Quan els festivals siguin vostres, no seran d'altres. I si em crides, si em crides... - Leonard - (algú del públic el crida) ... sí, em crides llavors jo hi seré allà. Però una cosa, no hi ha una revolució, quan algú parla d'una revolució, és la seva revolució. Deixeu la revolució pels propietàries de la revolució, són com tots els altres propietaris, busquen un profit.

I’d like to say something about the link between money and the festivals. When the Festivals will be yours they will not belong to others. If you call me, I will already be there. But the thing is, there is not a revolution. When others talk about the revolution, it is their revolution. Leave the revolution to the owners of the revolution, they are like any other owners: they’re seeking profit.

 

Diamonds in the Mine
1970 Wight, Aug. 31 - with the first verse They Gave Me Some Money

They gave me some money
for my sad and famous song
They said `the crowd is waiting,
hurry up or they'll be gone
But I could not change my style
and I guess I never will
So I sing this song for the poison snakes
on Devastation Hill

And there are no letters in the mailbox,
and there are no grapes upon the vine,
and there are no chocolates in the boxes anymore,
and there are no diamonds in the mine.

Well, the lady in blue, she's asking for revenge,
the man in white -- that's you -- says he has no friends.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
he was eating up a lady where the lions and Christians fight.
...

Well, you tell me that your lover has a broken limb,
you say you're kind of restless now and it's on account of him.
Well, I saw the man in question, it was just the other night,
he was eating up a lady where the lions and Christians fight.
...

Ah, there is no comfort in the covens of the witch,
...

Variations from differents gigs:

I think I told you this, back in the days of Vietnam
When the poets march for Uncle Ho [Ho-Chi-Minh]
And the jerks for Uncle Sam
Whose side you're gonna take now?
Whose song you're gonna sing?
With the mega-corpses stinking of a million in the wind…

I think I told you about it, in the days of Vietnam
When your poets marched for Uncle Ho
And your thugs for Uncle Sam
But we decided we couldn't chose today
Which song we could sing ?
With that many stench of corpses
That is blowing in the in the wind…