This week, Jim is seeking a song containing a person’s name in the title. Well, there’s certainly no shortage of possibilities, but this is one of the first that came to my mind that I haven’t already used in a post for Song Lyric Sunday (which sadly ruled out ‘Visions of Johanna’ on this occasion).
Still, absolutely no drop-off in quality by opting for Leonard Cohen instead…
Come over to the window, my little darling,
I’d like to try to read your palm.
I used to think I was some kind of Gypsy boy
before I let you take me home.
Now so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began
to laugh and cry and cry and laugh about it all again.
Well you know that I love to live with you,
but you make me forget so very much.
I forget to pray for the angels
and then the angels forget to pray for us.
Now so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began …
We met when we were almost young
deep in the green lilac park.
You held on to me like I was a crucifix,
as we went kneeling through the dark.
Oh so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began …
Your letters they all say that you’re beside me now.
Then why do I feel alone?
I’m standing on a ledge and your fine spider web
is fastening my ankle to a stone.
Now so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began …
For now I need your hidden love.
I’m cold as a new razor blade.
You left when I told you I was curious,
I never said that I was brave.
Oh so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began …
Oh, you are really such a pretty one.
I see you’ve gone and changed your name again.
And just when I climbed this whole mountainside,
to wash my eyelids in the rain!
Oh so long, Marianne, it’s time that we began …
Written by Leonard Cohen
the only deadhead in the hameau 
!I’ve always loved this. Made me think I should have picked Cohen’s Suzanne today
Lovely song, by a master songwriter and poet who should have been awarded the Nobel Prize.
Leonard Cohen immortalized Marianne Ihlen in ‘So long, Marianne’. One day Marianne was in the village shop with her basket waiting to pick up bottled water and milk, when she saw a dark man standing in the doorway with the sun behind him. Leonard Cohen a little-known Canadian poet asked Marianne if she would like to join him and his friends outside at their table. Cohen drove her home from Greece to Oslo, so she could get her divorce. Later she received a telegram from Montreal saying, “Have house. All I need is my woman and her son. Love Leonard.” Shortly afterwards she goes to Canada with her little boy. Cohen, Marianne and her son Axel live together for the next seven years during the 60s, and he would commute between Montreal, New York and Hydra.
He had that unique voice.