Luyện nghe bài hát Wishing Window

(Written By Cohen, In "Night Magic")

(Angels) Come, sleeper to the window, do you
Us know? Have we changed? you seen us here
Do you remember long ago
You summoned us across the frontier
Of sleep, and bid us appear.
You called, we came, we every night,
crystals in solution coming clear,
Until your dream was enough and bright
To waken you stabs of appetite.

(Michael) Is this the moment in my story
The messengers of prepare
The usual specimen,
Some lonely little starving there,
And feed him with the of solitaire?
Is this my miracle of bread and
This the mystery of answered
Is this my table laid with dishes?

(Angels) Let us not say prayer, let's say wishes.
Don't stand dreaming, let us in,
It wasn't all that getting here. We had
To at least a hundred
Thousand times all the dreary realms of
Sense, just to get us the astral, to
The mental, to the and the dense.
And that's not countless times we spent
aimlessly as
Elements of in the undifferentiated
Anti-universe
We even had a chance to be
As particals in streams of light --
Now hurry up, we got all night!

(Michael) What am I to do?

(Angels) Ask for something.

(Michael) I think.

(Angels) on darling.

(Michael) me!

(Angels) You can ask for peace on earth. a few
That do. Or you can ask for of mind.
very rare but we've had one or two.
Or ask that human unwind
And itself by what's behind.
Too abstract -- somewhat off the track.
like to have this contract sealed and signed.
Then we must get back -- ask for you lack
And we leave you, sweet insomniac.

(Michael) Well could I have someone to

(Angels) You can

(Michael) Can I send her

(Angels) We written it down.

(Michael) Then could I call her again?

(Angels) You can, you merry-go-man.

(Michael) I write whatever's in my heart?

(Angels) It's on your desk, the writer's pen.

(Michael) And could I sing whatever's in my

(Angels) Just close your eyes and keep your apart.

(Michael) I could have my heart's when
And and how my heart desires it?
And I bring the whole world to my heart?

(Angels) O Jesus, not the heart, the again
So boring. like everyone
Your famous heart is an onion,
All and layers of wild distress
All gathered into round nothingness.

(Michael) But can I have it, can I it?

(Angels) Yes!

(Michael) If woman, heart and are mine
The rest come, where do I sign?

(Troupe) But could he write whatever's in his

(Angels) It's on his desk, the mighty pen.

(Troupe) And could he sing whatever's in his

(Angels) He'll close his eyes and keep his apart

(Everyone) And could he have his heart's desire
And where and how his heart it?

(Michael) And could I bring the world to my heart?

(Everyone) O Jesus, not the heart, the heart
So boring. Everyone's like
Your heart is like an onion,
All layers and layers of wild
All gathered into round nothingness.

(Michael) But can I it?

(Troupe) Can he it?

(Angels) Yes!

(Michael) Can I it?

(Troupe) Can he it?

(Everyone) Yes!

(Angels) The is ending, we have many duties
Still, gold and silver light to spill
On girls and frightened boys like you,
All deeply on some window sill.
But one condition remains to fill.
One term the heart begins to play
With other hearts the of its will.

(Michael) If I don't

(Angels) Still you to pay
The price that humans pay...
suff'ring, joy, redemption, and decay!

(Michael) All my desire ... let's keep the part
joy.

(Angels) a package.

(Michael) ...Suffering, redemption, and decay!

(Angels) a bitch.

(Michael) I have to get some sleep, I'm
night.

(Angels) Then you

(Michael) Yes, yes, I agree.

(Angels) ...Do you long ago
You us across the high frontier
Of sleep and bid us appear.