Song Of Destruction Lyrics - Cohen Leonard

(Written By Cohen, Performed In "Night Magic") 

(Frank & Louis) Are you still here? What are you waiting for? 

Your lives to change? An oracle to speak? 

Some version of the wounded matador 

Who turns toward the bull his other cheek 

And entertains you with a torn physique? 

Some prisoner in pyjamas dancing lewd 

Trablinka waltzes, while another freak 

Hangs himself to concentrate your mood 

And sweeten up your putrid solitude? 

(Michael) My drummer is the only one I trust 

Let the drums go rolling through the night 

And let them pulverise my deep disgust 

With steady thunder, whips and dynamite 

The man of sticks and skins is always right. 

I found him near the cremetorium 

Humiliated, begging for a fight. 

I wrote the name of honour on a drum 

O drummer tell the people why I've come! 

O listen to him and his saxophone 

(Frank & Louis) Our musical genital unicorn 

(Michael) He's very well hung with his golden horn 

He'd like to be standing out here alone 

The light on his hands, his mouth, and his bone. 

(Frank & Louis) So take your solo now and loose your way 

In every fingered hole and brassy groan... 

You'll soon begin to choke on what you play 

(Michael) You're choking now exactly as I say! 

(Michael, Frank As for the deeper spirits in the hall 

& Louis) Annointed ones and truely different 

Whom orgy doesn't satisfy at all 

Who loathe the horizontal argument 

(Frank & Louis) It is to such as you that he was sent. 

(Michael) I understand the loyalties that insist 

You burn a child or shoot a president 

Or tattoo numbers on a woman's wrist 

I know the sorrow of the good idealist. 

It is to such as you that I was sent 

To speak directly to your deepest shame 

And light the fires of experiment 

And burn all hesitation in the flame -- 

I claim you now, I claim you in the name 

Of that which you have never done before 

And having done it never be the same. 

The victim shall be smitten on his sore. 

The haughty one shall have a visitor. 

(Michael, Frank We heard that drummer, do not think we missed 

& Louis) Your subtle derivation from the beat 

(Michael) Which I established with an iron fist 

A thousand years ago, a small deceit 

To be enlarged until you have complete 

Control of the mood and the atmosphere -- 

Your crooked time endangering my defeat -- 

Now all your instruments must disappear 

And on your traitor's face pursue your 

dark career!