Field Commander Cohen
He was our most important spy
Wounded in the line of duty
Parachuting acid into
Diplomatic cocktail parties
Urging Fidel Castro
To abandon fields and castles

Leave it all
And like a man
Come back to nothing special

Such as waiting rooms
And ticket lines, and
Silver bullet suicides, and
Messianic ocean tides, and
Racial roller-coaster rides
And other forms of boredom
Advertised as poetry

I know you need your sleep now
I know your life's been hard
But many men have fallen
Where you promised to stand guard

I never asked but I heard that you cast
Your lot along with the poor
That you be this and nothing more than
Just some grateful, faithful woman's
Favorite singing millionaire
The patron saint of envy
And the grocer of despair
Working for the Yankee dollar
Drinking' rum and Coca-Cola
Go down Point Cuman
Both mother and daughter
Working for the Yankee dollar

I know you need your sleep now
I know your life's been hard
But many men have fallen
Where you promised to stand guard

Lover, come and lie with me
If my lover is who you really are
And be your sweetest self a while
Until I ask for more, my child
And let your other selves be wrung, yeah
Let them manifest and come
'til love is pierced and love is hung
And every taste is on the tongue
And every kind of freedom done

Then oh, my love
Oh, oh, oh, my love
Oh, my love
Oh, my love