Cockburn, Bruce - How I Spent My Fall Vacation Lyrics

I love my leather jacket.

Don’t shoot me man. I’m just a graceful slow dancer, just a dream to you, not real at all.

Bruce Cockburn reminds me that, if you live an honest life and when it comes your time to die, you can look God and Death in the eye and not blink. Come to think of it, Leonard Cohen knew that too.

I hope I don't have to shiver in it too long

My leather jacket.

pure lyrical and guitar genius.

It blazes at us like the sun. The

What about the eye of God?

I'm just a graceful slow dancer.

Humans....no.. Don't shoot me

Obviously a great song.

Many years have past. I still fear the paramilitary police. Especially when they snap the safety off their machine pistols.

at college, my roommate Troy Beales said, hmm, eyes, teeth and hair problems... this doesn't look good

This song made me a life time Cockburn fan in 1981. Amazing artist and man

me too two guys in leather jackets glance at each other and shiver

Paints such a vivid picture with his lyrics supported by the music. Hugh Marsh's violin work just bring you right in. Brilliant

same here / meet him in stockholm he played on my guitar a few songs during the consert and signed it/ nice guy andgreat guys in the band GUY

A wizard of words and music

Nah, nah, nah, nah ,nah nah ......

The wheels were playin` fast in 9/8 time ...

Sun went down looking like the eye of God

Behind icy mist and stark bare trees

Inside the dim empty cinema two guys in leather jackets

Glance at each other and shiver

"They never built these places with winter in mind"

Out the window down the gray road

You can see old walled monastery

Now become a barracks for the paramilitary police



I saw an old lady's face once on a Japanese train

Half lit, rich with soft luminosity

She was dozing straight upright head bobbing almost imperceptibly

Wheels were playing fast in 9/8 time

Her husband's friendly face suddenly folded up in a sneeze

Across the straight a volcano flew a white smoke flag of surrender



In a Roman street on a full moon night

I was sick and there was a young cop in a circle of yellow light

As we drew near he snapped the safety off his machine pistol

And slid a trembling finger to the trigger

I wanted to say something calming but couldn't catch his eye

He didn't want contact -- he was trained to see movement

"Well don't shoot me, man, I'm a graceful slow dancer

I'm just a dream to you not real at all"



I wonder if I'll end up like Bernie in his dream

A displaced person in some foreign border town

Waiting for a train part hope part myth

While the station changes hands

Or just sitting at home growing tenser with the times

Or like that guy in "The Seventh Seal"

Watching the newly dead dance across the hills

Or wearing this leather jacket shivering with a friend

While the eye of God blazes at us like the sun...