Suzy's Shack

Hallelujah

(Original Verses from 1984)

1. 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 he fourth, the fifth
The minor fall, the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

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

3. 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

4. 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 to fool you
And even though it all went wrong
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
With nothing on my lips but Hallelujah

(Additional Verses - All by Leonard Cohen)

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

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

Now maybe there's a God above,
As for me, all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
and it's no complaint you hear tonight,
and It's not some pilgrim who's seen the light
it's a cold and it's a very lonely Hallelujah.

(Variations on the Last Verse)

Maybe there's a God above,
But all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot somebody who outdrew you.
It's not a cry that you at night
It's not somebody who has seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

Now maybe there's a God above,
But all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
But it's not a cry that you hear tonight
And it's not some gleeful laughter
From somebody who says he has seen the light,
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah.

Now maybe there's a God above,
As for me, all I ever learned from love
Is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
But it's not a cry that you hear tonight
It's not some gleeful christian who has seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah


I found this amazing article on Leonard Cohen's Hallelujah:
There’s no such thing as an elixir. All that stuff about alchemy—turning the ordinary into the rare and the beautiful, copper into gold, eternal life—it’s all lies. But no other element of Renaissance imagery (and at the time, science) has fascinated writers, artists and musicians so much, at its point of creation and ever since. It was Shakespeare who first made the connection, in his sonnets, but we’re not here for an English Literature lecture.

You would, however, be forgiven for thinking so—for we are here to discuss the “Bard of the bedsit”, Leonard Cohen, and his seminal exploration into Judaeo-Christian theology, desperation and sex—“Hallelujah”. These are common themes of Cohen’s lyrics, but at no other time has he married them together so beautifully, creating something more special, more ornate—something higher. It’s possible that Cohen could have taken the ordinary ingredients of his songs, mingled their fibres in his agar-plate guitar, and created the elixir that Shakespeare, armed with only his quill and parchment, never could.

Am I blaspheming yet? I haven’t even got started.

Cohen’s song begins with a casual reference to the Biblical figure of David, destroyer of Goliath, subsequent King of Israel, poet and blessed musician: “Well I heard there was a secret chord/That David played and it pleased the Lord”. That Cohen casts aside his contemporaries (Dylan, Baez, Joplin etc), along with folk heroes of a bygone era, and yes, Shakespeare, to aspire to the achievements of David speaks volumes. And while the “secret chord” is probably not the A minor that closes the couplet, you just have to admire his gall.

David once wrote the following verse:
O Lord, do not rebuke me in your anger
or discipline me in your wrath
Be merciful to me, Lord, for I am faint;
O Lord, heal me, for my bones are in agony.
My soul is in anguish.
How long, O Lord, how long?
In “Hallelujah”, as in so many of David’s Psalms, blind desperation in the midst of blind faith is the underlying preoccupation. Attempting to bridge the gulf between the “holy or the broken Hallelujah” (whilst seemingly more concerned with the latter), both Cohen and David argue the validity of faith in times of crisis as well as times of calm. David was to later beg the Lord for forgiveness after having an affair with a subject’s wife, before having him killed in the front line against the Ammonites, and Cohen may well have felt some sympathy with this. David was a musician, after all.

Cohen’s sexuality, however, is only apparent in the admiration of beauty in the second verse. The central sexual verse was omitted from the studio recording, but did appear on both John Cale’s and Jeff Buckley’s spellbinding covers. The verse could shed some light on the nature of the speaker’s discontent, which is presumably why Cohen opted to only sing the words when in concert, for fear that recording them might immortalise his troubles: “There was a time you let me know/What's really going on below/But now you never show it to me, do you?” Certainly, it could not be argued that such a verse was omitted because it spoilt the ethereal air of the rest of the song, as the verse almost piously concludes, “every breath we drew was Hallelujah”.

All this hyperbole and no perspective leads to some inevitable, questions: is Leonard Cohen a prophet? No, he’s a folk singer. Is “Hallelujah” the lost Psalm? No, it’s a pop lyric. Which should hopefully alleviate any unease this article may have brought to believers.

But there’s one more point for debate, one far less clear-cut and worthy of the scholarly attention it will no doubt receive in years to come: is “Hallelujah” poetry? As the original Bard might (but probably wouldn’t) have said—that is the question.

More on Cohen here http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Leonard_Cohen

My favourite version of Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley: