I know this room, I've walked this floor.

I've heard there was a secret chord
that David played to please the Lord,
but you don't really care for music, do you?
It goes like this: the fourth, the fifth
the minor fall, the major lift;
the baffled king composing Hallelujah!

Your faith was strong but you needed proof.
You saw her bathing on the roof;
her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you.
She tied you to a kitchen chair
she broke your throne, she cut your hair,
and from your lips she drew the Hallelujah!

You say I took the Name in vain;
I don't even know the name.
But if I did, well, really, what's it to you?
There's a blaze of light in every word;
it doesn't matter what you heard,
the holy, or the broken Hallelujah!

I did my best; it wasn't much.
I couldn't feel, so I learned to touch.
I told the truth, I didn't come to fool you.
And even though it all went wrong,
I'll stand before the Lord of Song
with nothing on my lips but Hallelujah!

Baby, I have been here before.
I know this room, I've walked this floor.
I used to live alone before I knew you.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
love is not a victory march,
it's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah!

There was a time when you let me know
what's really going on below
but now you never show it to me, do you?
I remember when I moved in you,
the holy dove was moving too,
and every breath we drew was Hallelujah!

Now maybe there’s a God above
but all I ever learned from love
is how to shoot at someone who outdrew you.
And it’s no complaint you can hear tonight,
and it’s not some pilgrim who's seen the light--
it’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah!

[Leonard Cohen, 'Hallelujah', from Leonard Cohen {Everyman's Library Pocket Poets}]