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DEMOCRACY
poetry [ ]

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by [Leonard_Cohen ]

2002-11-25  | [This text should be read in romana]    |  Submited by Mihaela Goga



It’s coming through a hole in the air
From those nights in Tianamen Square
It’s coming from the feel
That is ain’t exactly real
Or it’s real, but ain’t exactly there.
From the wars against disorder,
From the sirens night and day;
From the fires of the homeless,
From the ashes of the gay:
Democracy is coming to the U.S.A.

It’s coming through a crack in the wall,
On a visionary flood of alcohol;
From the staggering account
Of the Sermon on the Mount
Which I don’t pretend to understand at all.
Is coming from the silence on the dock of the bay,
From the brave, the bold, the battered heart of Chevrolet :
Democracy is coming in the U.S.A.

It’s coming from the sorrow on the street,
The holy places where the races meet;
From the homicidal bitchin’
That goes down in every kitchen
To determinate who will serve and who will eat.
From the wells of disappointment
Where the women kneel to pray
For the grace of G-d in the desert here
and the desert far away:
Democracy is coming in the U.S.A.

Sail on, sail on
O mighty Ship of State !
To the Shores of Need
Past the Reefs of Greed
Trough the Squalls of Hate
Sail on, sail on.

It’s coming to America first,
The cradle of the best and of the worst.
It’s here they got to range
And the machine for change
And it’s here they got the spiritual thirst.
It’s here the family’s broken
And it’s here the lonely say
That the heart has got to open
In a fundamental way :
Democracy is coming in the U.S.A.

It’s coming from the women and men.
O, baby, we’ll make love again.
We’ll be going down so deep
That the river’s going to weep,
And the mountain’s going to shout Amen !
It’s coming like a tidal flood
Beneath the lunar sway,
Imperial, mysterious, in amorous array :
Democracy is coming in the U.S.A.

I’m sentimental, if you know what I mean :
I love the country but I can’t stand the scene.
And I’m neither left or right
I’m just staying home tonight,
Getting lost in that hopeless little screen.
But I’m stubborn as those garbage bags
That Time cannot decay,
I’m junk but I’m still holding up
This little wild bouquet:
Democracy is coming in the U.S.A.

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