Almost like the blues

By Leonard Cohen

I saw some people starving There was murder, there was rape Their villages were burning They
were trying to escape I couldn’t meet their glances I was staring at my shoes It was acid, it was tragic It was almost like the blues

I have to die a little Between each murderous thought And when I’m finished thinking I have to die a lot There’s torture and there’s killing There’s all my bad reviews The war, the children missing Lord, it’s almost like the blues

I let my heart get frozen To keep away the rot My father said I’m chosen My mother said I’m not I listened to their story Of the Gypsies and the Jews It was good, it wasn’t boring It was almost like the blues

There is no G-d in heaven And there is no Hell below So says the great professor Of all there is to know But I’ve had the invitation That a sinner can’t refuse And it’s almost like salvation It’s almost like the blues

This poem was originally published in The New Yorker