by

Suburban Phoenix Real Estate Broker

Author website

So: Leonard Cohen wrote a song called “Hallelujah.” People hear what they want to hear, so they think it’s a religious song, when in fact it is a distant and self-absolving lamentation of a broken relationship. Cohen later rewrote the song as a much sexier despairing of what would seem to be an ongoing divorce. Arousing gonad references in the second act, but no religion. The version of the song you are probably familiar with is a mashup of the two, associated with Jeff Buckley, Rufus Wainwright and many others: A more mature fatalism about all sexual relationships, but still no religion.

So you hear it everywhere as if it were a hymn: Church and funerals, of course, but anywhere people want to be solemn together. (Heads-up, y’all: “If It Be Your Will.”) Just this week, we heard it as a part of the opera performances bookending Donald Trump’s acceptance of the GOP nomination Thursday night.

Opera!

I love Leonard Cohen, and I love every version of that song – especially the juicy ones. But: No religion. And literally for heaven’s sake, please: No opera.

It gets worse.

While Leonard Cohen was an unfailingly kind man – wry and fatalistic but gentle and loving with everyone – the crypt-keepers who presume to speak for him from beyond the grave are made of different stuff.

The Daily Mail:

The estate of Leonard Cohen said on Friday it was considering legal action over the use of the Canadian singer’s ‘Hallelujah’ at the Republican National Convention, calling it a brazen attempt to politicize the song.

First, I’m sure the Trump campaign is on sound legal footing. All of these commercialized artists bitch about the generic-whore contracts they sign with ASCAP/BMI, but they are nevertheless generic whores, open-for-business to all paying customers. If you don’t want your content licensed, don’t license it.

Second, there is no advantage to Leonard Cohen’s cashiers to pissing off half his audience. I see zero upside to these futile displays.

The laid back Tom Petty turns out to be pretty bitchy in death, too, and Neil Young didn’t even have to die to manifest his inner harridan. But it seems especially cruel to me to zombify Leonard Cohen over something he would probably chuckle about.

So to hell with all that. To cleanse our minds of cultish public displays of pique, I give you “Sisters of Mercy” instead. It’s also not about religion, not even about Matthew 9:20 – although ‘faith not works’ turns out to be sexy, too.

And for posterity’s sake, here are lyrics to the three versions of “Hallelujah” referenced here:

Hallelujah — Cohen I

Now I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say I took the name in vain
I don’t even know the name
But if I did, well really, what’s it to you?
There’s a blaze of light in every word
It doesn’t matter which you heard
The holy or the broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

I did my best, it wasn’t much
I couldn’t feel, so I tried to touch
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my tongue but Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

 
Hallelujah — Cohen II

Baby, I’ve been here before.
I know this room, I’ve walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
Yeah I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch,
But listen, love is not some kind of victory march,
No it’s a cold and it’s a very broken Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time you let me know
What’s really going on below,
Ah but now you never show it to me, do you?
Yeah but I remember, yeah when I moved in you,
And the holy dove, she was moving too,
Yes every single breath that we drew was Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

Maybe there’s a God above,
As for me, all I’ve ever seemed to learn from love
Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
Yeah but it’s not a complaint that you hear tonight,
It’s not the laughter of someone who claims to have seen the light
No it’s a cold and it’s a very lonely Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

I did my best, it wasn’t much.
I couldn’t feel, so I learned to touch.
I’ve told the truth, I didn’t come all this way to fool you.
Yeah even though it all went wrong
I’ll stand right here before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah.
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah.

 
Hallelujah — Buckley arrangement

I’ve heard there was a secret chord
That David played, and it pleased the Lord
But you don’t really care for music, do you?
It goes like this, the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne, and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Baby I’ve been here before
I’ve seen this room and I’ve walked this floor
I used to live alone before I knew ya
I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time when you let me know
What’s really going on below
But now you never show that to me do you?
And remember when I moved in you?
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a God above
But all I’ve ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you
And it’s not a cry that you hear at night
It’s not somebody who’s seen the light
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Addendum, from a friend on Facebook, the actual performance. So far as I know, no Deep State kingpins were whacked during the Ave Maria.