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"FIELD COMMANDER COHEN" |  |
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About the song "Field Commander Cohen": Ira Nadel in his book Various Positions indicates that after Leonard's journey to Israel during the Yom Kippur War, he arrived in Asmara, Ethiopia where he began "Field Commander Cohen". Leonard "lived in the Imperial Hotel for a while, writing songs and re-assessing his life...he finished 'Chelsea Hotel #2' and began several songs incorporating his Israeli experience: 'Field Commander Cohen'"...1 However, upon forwarding the notebook pages containing his first creative efforts on the song "Field Commander Cohen", Leonard indicated to Jarkko Arjatsalo of The Leonard Cohen Files that the song was begun sometime during 1971: "Let's see, I went to Asmara after the Yom Kippur War which was in '73, wasn't it? No, this little notebook predates that by a couple of years. There is an entry written on March 14, 1971, in the coffee shop of the Hilton in Acapulco, and one in Suzanne's writing, on June 1, 1971. It also contains the first draft of 'Love Is a Fire' which was published in The Energy of Slaves, in 1972." 1. Nadel, Ira B., Various Positions, published simultaneously in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto, and in the U.S. by Pantheon Books, a division of Random House, Inc., 1996, p. 199. |
Place cursor over notebook page to read transcript. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
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Field Commander Cohen Field Commander Cohen, he was our most important spy, wounded in the line of duty, parachuting acid into diplomatic cocktail parties, urging Fidel Castro to abandon fields and castles, leave it all, and, like a man, come back to nothing special, such as waiting rooms, and ticket lines, and silver bullet suicides, and messianic ocean tides, and racial roller-coaster rides, and other forms of boredom advertised as poetry. I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. I never asked but I heard you cast your lot along with the poor. How come I overheard your prayer that you be this and nothing more than just some grateful, faithful woman's favourite singing millionaire, the patron saint of envy and the grocer of despair, working for the Yankee dollar? I know you need your sleep now, I know your life's been hard, but many men are falling where you promised to stand guard. Lover, come and lie with me, if my lover is who you are. And be your sweetest self a while, until I ask for more, my child. Then let the other selves be rung, yes, let them manifest and come 'til every taste is on the tongue, 'til love is pierced and love is hung, and every kind of freedom done, then oh my love, oh my love, oh my love, oh my love. |
| Who is Mayakovsky? Vladimir Mayakovsky |
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