Trav’ling lady, stay awhile
until the night is over.
I’m just a station on your way,
I know I’m not your lover.
Well I lived with a child of snow
when I was a soldier,
and I fought every man for her
until the nights grew colder.
She used to wear her hair like you
except when she was sleeping,
and then she’d weave it on a loom
of smoke and gold and breathing.
And why are you so quiet now
standing there in the doorway?
You chose your journey long before
you came upon this highway.
Trav’ling lady stay awhile
until the night is over.
I’m just a station on your way,
I know I’m not your lover.
Included on Songs Of Leonard Cohen (1967), this song, although addressed to one woman (the “trav’ling lady”) is clearly about another who really is his lover and who occupies his thoughts even when he is away from her. There are autobiographical echoes of Cohen’s then fading relationship with Marianne Ihlen, and his sense of male-female relationships as a battleground and his own war-weariness are eloquently and poignantly expressed.