Leonard Cohen

The man she wanted all her life was hanging by a thread
i never even knew how much I wanted you, she said
His muscles, they were numbered, and his style was obsolete
oh bay, I have come too late.
She knelt beside his feet
ill never see a face like yours in years of men to come
Ill never see such arms again in wrestling or love.
And all his virtues burning in the smokey holocaust
She took unto herself most everything her lover lost
Now the master of this landscape, he was standing at the view
With a sparrow of st. francis that he was preaching to
She beckoned to the sentry of his high religious mood
She said, ill make a place between my legs, Ill teach you solitude.
He offered her an orgy in a many mirrored room
He promiised her protection for the issue of her womb
She moved her body hard against a sharpened metal spoon
She stopped the bloody rituals of passage to the moon