The Letters Lyrics - Dear Heather - Leonard Cohen

You never liked to get 

The letters that I sent. 

But now you've got the gist 

Of what my letters meant. 

You're reading them again, 

The ones you didn't burn. 

You press them to your lips, 

My pages of concern. 

I said there'd been a flood. 

I said there's nothing left. 

I hoped that you would come. 

I gave you my address. 

Your story was so long, 

The plot was so intense, 

It took you years to cross 

The lines of self-defense. 

The wounded forms appear: 

The loss, the full extent; 

And simple kindness here, 

The solitude of strength. 

You walk into my room. 

You stand there at my desk, 

Begin your letter to 

The one who's coming next.