Leonard Cohen, on ghost guitar,
is singing sweetly from afar.
I know those robes; I know his beat,
The corner of that heavenly street.
A trail of tears, a life of fears is now
the music of the spheres.
The cheap seats full, the box seats, too.
No longer any me and you.
What’s left is love, what’s left is right.
The back-up singers out of sight.
His chop is back; the licks are sweet.
The great world tour is not complete.
He’s playing on till next we meet.