Cohen

I will sing to you the hallelujah
in minor falls and major lifts
with broken thrones and cut off hair
and from my lips you draw it
This cold and broken hallelujah
if my voice cracks it is only the rise of the music
or something more
No victory march, this step
no marble arch
your beauty – and the moonlight – overthrew me
I offer this prayer to you
this secret chord
this broken hallelujah

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