Hell, I might just as well address this to the both of you:
I haven’t time to write anything else.
I’ve got to say my prayers.
I’ve got to wait by the window.
I repeat: the important thing was to cuckold Leonard Cohen.
I like that line because it’s got my name in it.
What really makes me sick
is that everything goes on as it went before:
I’m still a sort of friend,
I’m still a sort of lover.
But not for long:
that’s why I’m telling this to the two of you.
The fact is I’m turning to gold, turning to gold.
It’s a long process, they say,
it happens in stages.
This is to inform you that I’ve already turned to clay.
From the poem “The Cuckold’s Song” from The Spice-Box of Earth by Leonard Cohen.