The first time I heard Leonard Cohen
(And knew that I heard Leonard Cohen)
I was sitting at that table
In the warmed wooden room of high ceilings
And constant stream of interesting conversation.
That night I wanted to wipe away my youth
So I too could be one of the old wise faces.
And even though I did not know who Marianne was,
Or why we should bid her so long,
A woman across me sang to come over to the window.
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