Austin Lounge Lizards "Leonard Cohen's day job" by Hank Card & Kristen Nelson Card You drive your car in, pull it up on the rack You promise me faithlessly that you'll be back. I wait in the pit, it's the fate I have earned For believing some day you'll return. To the streets of New York from my tower of song, I come down to work where the common folk throng. In my famous blue shirt with its patch that says, "Len," Then I go back to write songs again. Chorus: Leonard Cohen is working a day job they say, for bizarre inspiration and hourly pay. And I swear by the grease in the crease of my hand, If you need speedy lubin', I'll prove I'm your man. I'll beg if I must, 'cause I'm aching to hear your story, As I check your brakes front and rear. Can you play a sad waltz on your cheap violin? Did you have a good time in Berlin? If Saint Joan should pull in, in her Charger of white, And ask if it all could be finished tonight, I'd say, "Let me take a look under your hood, All that smoke doesn't look very good." Leonard Cohen is working a day job they say, it's part of the price every artist must pay. And I swear by the crud and the blood on my hands, If you need a tune this afternoon, I'm your man. And I swear by the monkey wrench clenched in my hand If you lack something basic in black, I'm your man.