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Stories Of The Street by Leonard Cohen
Stories Of The Street
Chords used in this song :
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Am C
1: The stories of the street are mine,
Em Bm
The Spanish voices laugh...
Am C
The cadillacs go creeping down
Em Bm
Through the night and the poison gas
Am F
And I lean from my window-sill
B F# B
In this old hotel I chose
E A
With one hand on my suicide
E D Am
And one hand on a rose... hmmm
2: I know you've heard it's over now
And war must surely come
The cities they are broke in half
And the middle-men are gone...
But let me ask you one more time
Oh Children of the Dust...
These hundreds who are shrieking now,
Oh do they speak for us? Hmmm...
3: And where do all these highways go
Now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still
That were coming home to me?
Oh lady, with your legs so fine,
Oh stranger at your wheel...
You are locked inside your suffering
And your pleasures are the seal... Hmmm...
4: The Age of Lust is giving birth
And both the parents ask
The nurse to tell them fairytales
On both sides of the glass...
And now the infant with its cord
Is hauled in like a kite...
With one eye filled with blueprints
And one eye filled with night... Hmmm...
5: Oh come with me my little one
And we will find that farm
And grow us grass and apples there
And keep all the animals warm...
And if by chance I wake at night
And I ask you who I am
Oh then take me to the slaughter-house
I will wait there with the lamb... Hmmm...
6: With one hand on a hexagram
And one hand on a girl
I balance on a wishing-well
That all men call the world...
We are so small between the stars;
So large against the sky...
And lost among the subway crowds
I try to catch your eye... Hmmm...
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version 2
Em G Bm F#m
The stories of the street are mine, the Spanish voices laugh
Em G Bm F#m
The Cadillacs go creeping now through the night and the poison gas,
Em C D F#
and I lean from my window sill in this old hotel I chose,
B E B A E Em
yes one hand on my suicide, one hand on the rose
I know you've heard it's over now and war must surely come,
the cities they are broke in half and the middle men are gone
But let me ask you one more time, O children of the dusk,
All these hunters who are shrieking now oh do they speak for us?
And where do all these highways go, now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still that were coming home to me?
O lady with your legs so fine O stranger at your wheel,
You are locked into your suffering and your pleasures are the seal
The age of lust is giving birth, and both the parents ask
the nurse to tell them fairy tales on both sides of the glass
And now the infant with his cord is hauled in like a kite,
and one eye filled with blueprints, one eye filled with night
O come with me my little one, we will find that farm
and grow us grass and apples there and keep all the animals warm
And if by chance I wake at night and I ask you who I am,
O take me to the slaughterhouse, I will wait there with the lamb
With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world
We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky,
and lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye
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