Текст песни Cohen Leonard -  the story of isaac | guitar chord и Mp3   
                                        Cohen Leonard -  the story of isaac | guitar chord и Mp3 слова песни 
                                    
                                    
                             
                            
                            
                                
     
 
                                                                    From: Harlan L Thompson THE STORY OF ISAAC- Leonard Cohen      Am              F         Am            FThe door it opened slowly, my father he came in        G    F    EI was nine years old         Am                F    Am                   FAnd he stood so tall above me, blue eyes they were shining          G         F    EAnd his voice was very cold     C                  C/G           C                  C/GHe said, "I`ve had a vision and you know I`m strong and holy        D       C          BI must do what I`ve been told"          F             Bb              F               BbSo he started up the mountain, I was running, he was walking         F        G      AAnd his axe was made of gold Well, the trees they got much smaller, the lake a lady`s mirrorWe stopped to drink some wine Then he threw the bottle ove, broke a minute laterAnd he put his hand on mine Thought I saw an eagle but it might have been a vultureI never could decide Then my father built an altar,he looked once behind his shoulderHe knew I would not hide You who build these altars now to sacrifice these childrenYou must not do it anymore A scheme is not a vision and you never have been temptedBy a demon or a god You who stand above them now, your hatchets blunt and bloodyYou were not there beforeWhen I lay upon a mountain and my father`s hand was tremblingWith the beauty of the word And if you call me brother now, forgive me if I inquire"Just according to whose plan?"When it all comes down to dust I will kill you if I mustI will help you if I can When it all comes down to dust I will help you if I mustI will kill you if I can And mercy on our uniform, man of peace or man of warThe peacock spreads his fan NOTE: use the standard Cohen picking style (see Winter Lady)(from Songs From a Room, 1968)(sent by Harlan at harlant@hawaii.edu)