Stories of the Street
Leonard Cohen Lyrics


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The stories of the street are mine
The Spanish voices laugh
The Cadillacs go creeping now
Through the night and the poison gas
And I lean from my window sill
In this old hotel I chose
Yes, one hand on my suicide
One hand on the rose

I know you've heard it's over now
And war must surely come
The cities they all broke in half
And the middlemen are gone
But let me ask you one more time
O children of the dusk
All these hunters who are shrieking now
Oh, do they speak for us?
And where do all these highways go
Now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still
That were coming home to me?

O lady with your legs so fine
O stranger at your wheel
You are locked into your suffering
And your pleasures are the seal
The age of lust is giving birth
And both the parents ask
The nurse to tell them fairy tales
On both sides of the glass
And now the infant with his cord
Is hauled in like a kite
And one eye filled with blueprints
One eye filled with night

O come with me my little one
We will find that farm
And grow us grass and apples there
And keep all the animals warm
And if by chance I wake at night
And I ask you who I am
O take me to the slaughterhouse
I will wait there with the lamb
With one hand on the hexagram
And one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well
That all men call the world

We are so small between the stars
So large against the sky




And lost among the subway crowds
I try to catch your eye

Overall Meaning

“Stories of the Street” by Leonard Cohen is a thought-provoking song that details the singer's observations about life in the city. The song opens by describing the unique experiences and perspectives experienced on the streets of the city. The singer describes the Spanish voices that laugh and the Cadillacs that creep through the night amidst the poison gas. He looks out from his hotel room with one hand on the rose and the other on his suicide, soaking in the strange mix of pleasure and pain that lurks around every corner in the city.


As the song progresses, the singer shifts his focus to the larger political and societal issues that are affecting the city. He points out the violence and war that seems to be imminent and wonders if the endless marching of armies will ever stop. He asks whether all the hunters who are shrieking now truly speak for us and where all these endless highways that seem to lead nowhere are taking us.


The song ends on a hopeful note, with the singer dreaming of a peaceful farm where he can grow grass and apples and keep all the animals warm. He longs for simplicity and innocence and asks to be taken to the slaughterhouse where he will wait for his fate alongside the lamb.


Overall, “Stories of the Street” is a powerful meditation on life in the city, exploring themes of love, loss, and the endless cycle of war and violence that plagues our world.


Line by Line Meaning

The stories of the street are mine
The singer is the one who knows and has experienced everything that happens on the street.


The Spanish voices laugh
The singer hears and recognizes the sound of happy or joyful Spanish-speaking people on the street.


The Cadillacs go creeping now / Through the night and the poison gas
The luxurious cars are moving slowly and quietly in the dark polluted air, suggesting a sense of danger or unease.


And I lean from my window sill / In this old hotel I chose / Yes, one hand on my suicide / One hand on the rose
The artist is leaning out of their window in a rundown hotel, holding a flower in one hand and contemplating their own death with the other hand.


I know you've heard it's over now / And war must surely come / The cities they all broke in half / And the middlemen are gone
The artist is aware that people expect war to happen and the society is becoming more divided with intermediaries losing their power.


But let me ask you one more time / O children of the dusk / All these hunters who are shrieking now / Oh, do they speak for us?
The singer questions whether the people who currently hold power and are making decisions represent the public's interest or speak for them at all.


And where do all these highways go / Now that we are free? / Why are the armies marching still / That were coming home to me?
The singer wonders where the highways lead now that people are supposed to be free, and why there are still wars when soldiers were meant to come back home.


O lady with your legs so fine / O stranger at your wheel / You are locked into your suffering / And your pleasures are the seal
The artist observes a woman driving and recognizes that she is trapped in her own cycle of pain and pleasure.


The age of lust is giving birth / And both the parents ask / The nurse to tell them fairy tales / On both sides of the glass
The artist believes that the current generation is giving birth to an era of excessive desire and indulgence, but people are still chasing the illusion of happily ever after like two parents seeking comfort from fairytales.


And now the infant with his cord / Is hauled in like a kite / And one eye filled with blueprints / One eye filled with night
The artist describes a newborn baby being pulled by its umbilical cord like a kite before being born, and how the child's eyes hold both potential and uncharted darkness.


O come with me my little one / We will find that farm / And grow us grass and apples there / And keep all the animals warm
The singer invites a loved one to escape city life and join them in living a simpler and more peaceful life in the countryside.


And if by chance I wake at night / And I ask you who I am / O take me to the slaughterhouse / I will wait there with the lamb
The artist is afraid of losing their sense of self and asks another person to bring them back to reality, even if it means facing a harsh truth.


With one hand on the hexagram / And one hand on the girl / I balance on a wishing well / That all men call the world
The singer is juggling between using a hexagram for divination and being with their lover as they try to make sense of the world and their place in it.


We are so small between the stars / So large against the sky / And lost among the subway crowds / I try to catch your eye
The singer compares the grand scale of the universe to the smallness and insignificance of human beings, but they still want to connect with the person they care about in the midst of urban chaos.




Lyrics © BMG Rights Management
Written by: Leonard Cohen

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Most interesting comments from YouTube:

itamar marle

lyrics:

The stories of the street are mine, the Spanish voices laugh.
The Cadillacs go creeping now through the night and the poison gas,
And I lean from my window sill in this old hotel I chose,
Yes one hand on my suicide, one hand on the rose.

I know you've heard it's over now and war must surely come,
The cities they are broke in half and the middle men are gone.
But let me ask you one more time, O children of the dusk,
All these hunters who are shrieking now oh do they speak for us?

And where do all these highways go, now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still that were coming home to me?
O lady with your legs so fine O stranger at your wheel,
You are locked into your suffering and your pleasures are the seal.

The age of lust is giving birth, and both the parents ask
The nurse to tell them fairy tales on both sides of the glass.
And now the infant with his cord is hauled in like a kite,
And one eye filled with blueprints, one eye filled with night.

O come with me my little one, we will find that farm
And grow us grass and apples there and keep all the animals warm.
And if by chance I wake at night and I ask you who I am,
O take me to the slaughterhouse, I will wait there with the lamb.

With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world.
We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky,
And lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye.



Aryan Shahabian

Lyrics:
"The stories of the street are mine
The Spanish voices laugh
The Cadillacs go creeping now
Through the night and the poison gas
And I lean from my window sill
In this old hotel I chose
Yes, one hand on my suicide
One hand on the rose

I know you've heard it's over now
And war must surely come
The cities they all broke in half
And the middlemen are gone
But let me ask you one more time
O children of the dusk
All these hunters who are shrieking now
Oh, do they speak for us?
And where do all these highways go
Now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still
That were coming home to me?

O lady with your legs so fine
O stranger at your wheel
You are locked into your suffering
And your pleasures are the seal
The age of lust is giving birth
And both the parents ask
The nurse to tell them fairy tales
On both sides of the glass
And now the infant with his cord
Is hauled in like a kite
And one eye filled with blueprints
One eye filled with night

O come with me my little one
We will find that farm
And grow us grass and apples there
And keep all the animals warm
And if by chance I wake at night
And I ask you who I am
O take me to the slaughterhouse
I will wait there with the lamb
With one hand on the hexagram
And one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well
That all men call the world

We are so small between the stars
So large against the sky
And lost among the subway crowds
I try to catch your eye
"



Tosza Tesze

The stories of the street are mine,the Spanish voices laugh.
The Cadillacs go creeping now through the night and the poison gas,
and I lean from my window sill in this old hotel I chose,
yes one hand on my suicide, one hand on the rose.
I know you've heard it's over now and war must surely come,
the cities they are broke in half and the middle men are gone.
But let me ask you one more time, O children of the dusk,
All these hunters who are shrieking now oh do they speak for us?

And where do all these highways go, now that we are free?
Why are the armies marching still that were coming home to me?
O lady with your legs so fine O stranger at your wheel,
You are locked into your suffering and your pleasures are the seal.

The age of lust is giving birth, and both the parents ask
the nurse to tell them fairy tales on both sides of the glass.
And now the infant with his cord is hauled in like a kite,
and one eye filled with blueprints, one eye filled with night.

O come with me my little one, we will find that farm
and grow us grass and apples there and keep all the animals warm.
And if by chance I wake at night and I ask you who I am,
O take me to the slaughterhouse, I will wait there with the lamb.

With one hand on the hexagram and one hand on the girl
I balance on a wishing well that all men call the world.
We are so small between the stars, so large against the sky,
and lost among the subway crowds I try to catch your eye.



Игорь Королёв

Маршируем по обе стороны
- Мы подобраны под печать.
У кого-то - ослепляющий свет,
У кого-то - печаль.
Вы, все, идете в метро
Или на представление Пьеро?
Я смотрю в своё окно:
От этого и жарко, и холодно.
Возьму ка я, всё, это на перо,
А затем солью в одно ведро.
Я пытаюсь не думать:
Не всё ли равно?



All comments from YouTube:

alpha 🎃

Probably the most underrated song off Songs of Leonard Cohen.

Michel Griffin

I agree !!

m s

I was just thinking that, this song is so good.. so fuck’n beautiful

Paul Sinwill

When I first listened to this album this song was the one which immediately caught my attention... The lyrics, beautiful images they are. I'm still memorising them to play the song.

Kevin Wright

I agree. I would throw One of us Cannot be Wrong in that category

Paul Sinwill

@Kevin Wright My second favourite!

7 More Replies...

ZorkWHouse81

This is one of my favorite, if not my favorite of his songs. It has so many lines that are just perfect, but the last two, to me, encapsulate what makes him so good: "lost among the subway crowds, I try to catch your eye." They tug at my heart every time. The image of the subway crowd is a perfect one to portray the loneliness and alienation of modern life. You have a crowd of people, mostly individuals alone, all packed together and yet all trying to ignore each other - to not step on each others toes (literally and figuratively). In close proximity and yet in their own worlds, apart. And then you have one person in that crowd who's trying to make a connection with someone else, a stranger it seems most likely - and so then in that second part it doesn't say "I catch your eye." Instead it says "I try to catch your eye," and because it ends right there without ever indicating whether he was able to or not, there's no resolution and so the alienation/isolation remains intact as the song ends. Again, it pokes right through my heart every time I hear it.
I write also, and images like that are the pinnacle of what I try for (and maybe inevitably fail miserably to achieve, but I aspire) . This song is full of other good ones as well - "you are locked into your suffering, and your pleasures are the seal" is another one that can describe so much of life for some people (myself included). "One eye filled with blueprints, one eye filled with night" the duality of human nature and the possibilities encapsulated in the future of a child, to build up a meaningful future (blueprints) or on the other hand perhaps be overcome with darkness (night).

Giuseppe Adamo

"you are locked into your suffering, and your pleasures are the seal"... this verse hits so hard. It's a dizzying beautiful song.

Miguel Freitas

Excuse me??? This is the Age of Self Lust.

Kathleen McCormick

Love your interpretation.

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