"Chelsea Hotel No. 2," as performed by Rufus Wainwright
Oh, the poetry in this song. There's lewd and cynical: ". . . Giving me head on the unmade bed/While the limousines wait in the street . . . "; there's rueful and grieving poetry: ". . . Ah, but you got away, didn't you babe/You just turned your back on the crowd/You got away, I never once heard you say/I need you, I don't need you/I need you, I don't need you/And all of that jiving around . . ."; there's exaltative poetry: ". . . I remember you well in the Chelsea Hotel/You were famous, your heart was a legend . . . " There's funny poetry: ". . . You told me again you preferred handsome men/But for me you would make an exception . . ." There's cruel poetry, too: ". . . I remember you well in the Chelsea
Hotel/That's all, I don't even think of you that often."
The star of the song, according to legend, is a dead female rock 'n' roll singer, but it's composing Leonard Cohen and singing Rufus Wainwright (my favourite reader of the former's songs), together again, melting everything inside you until it comes out your eyes.
I recommend listening to it more than once.