Dress Rehearsal Rag Leonard Cohen
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Words & music by Leonard Cohen
[Bm]Four o'clock in the afternoon, [Cm]and I [C#m]didn't feel like very mutch.[A#m]
[Bm]I said to my self, "where are you, golden boy, where[Cm]'s [C#m]your fameous golden to[A#m]uch?"
[Bm]I thought you knew where all of the el[Cm]eph[C#m]ants lie down,[A#m]
[Bm]I thought you where the crownprince of all t[Cm]he [C#m]wheels in Iv´ry Town[A#m].
[Bm]Just take a look at your body n[Bbm]ow, [Am]There's nothing mutch to save.[A#m]
[Bm]And a bitter voice in the mirror cries &[Bbm]quot;[Am]Hey, Prince, you need a sh[A#m]ave."
[Bm]Now if you can manage to get your trembli[Cm]ng [C#m]fingers to behave,
[A#m]Why [Bm]don't you try unwrapping a stainless ste[Cm]el [C#m]razor blade?
That's right, [Cm]it's [Bm]come to this. Yes, [C#m]it's [Am]come to this[C],
[Bb]And wasn't it a long[D] way [G]down?
[Bb]Ah wasn't it a [D]strange way [G]down?
Ther's no hot water and the cold is running thin,
Well, what do you expect from the kind of places you've been living in?
Don't drink from that cup, it's all caked up and cracked along the rim,
That's not electric light, my friend, that is your vision growing dim.
Cover up your face with soap, there, now you're Santa Claus,
And you got a gift for anyone who give you his applause.
I thougt you were a racing man, ah, but you couldn't take the pace.
That's a funeral in the mirror, and it's stopping at your face.
That's right, it's come to this.
Yes' it's come to this,
And wasn't it a long way down?
Ah, wasn't it a strange way down?
Once there was a path and girl with chestnut hair,
And you passed the summer picking all of the berries that grew there.
There were times she was a woman, there were times she was just a child,
And you held her in the shadow where the raspberries grow wild.
And you climbed the twilight mountains, and you sang about the view,
And ev'erywhere you wandered, love seemed to go along with you.
That's a hard one to remember, yes, it makes you clench your fist,
And the veins stand out like highways all along your wrist.
That's right, it's come to this.
Yes' it's come to this,
And wasn't it a long way down?
Ah, wasn't it a strange way down?
You can still find a job, go out and talk to a friend,
On the back of every magazine, there are those coupons you can sand.
Why don't you join the Rosicrucians? They will give you back your hope,
You can find your love with diagrams on a plain brown envelope.
But you've used up all coupons, except the one that seems
To be written on you wrist. along with several thousand dreams.
Now Santa Claus comes forward, that's a razor in his mitt,
And he puts on his dark glases, and he
[C#m]shows you where to hit.And then [Cm]the [Bm]cameras pan, the [Am]stand-in stuntman,
[Bb]dress in [D]rehearsal [G]rag.
[Bb]It's just the dress r[D]ehearsal [G]rag,
[Bb]You know this dress r[D]ehearsal [G]rag,
[Bb]It's just the dress r[D]ehearsal [G]rag,
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