My Honour
My honour is in bad shape.
I'm crawling at a woman's feet.
She doesn't give an inch.
I look good for fifty-two
but fifty-two is fifty-two.
I'm not even a Zen Master.
I'm this man in a blue summer suit.
My lawyer took my .32 away
and locked it in the safe.
I'm defenceless against
her arrogance.
When the world is slow
she turns to me for an easy victory.
I'll rise up one of these days,
find my way to the airport.
I'll rise up and say
I loved you better than you loved me
and then I'll die for a long time
at the centre of my own dismal organization,
and I'll remember today,
the day when I was that asshole in a blue summer suit
who couldn't take it any longer.
Paris, 1987
-Leonard Cohen
posted by K-Oh @ 6:57 PM
2 Comments:
There's something about Paris. My ex-bf pushed me to consider Paris as my home. I promised to come back, but I didn't say that Paris could be my home. I know I wouldn't go back for him, but I have to admit that I felt home in Paris. Was it him or Paris itself?
I watched a movie shot in Paris last night. The streets, the river, the book store, the coffee shop... Everything looked so familiar. Now I know it was Paris not him. He said he only planned to stay in Paris for a couple of months at first, but he lived there since then. There is something about Paris. Too bad I don't belong there.
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