For some reason I had missed Leonard Cohen's Book Of Longing:
"I can't make the hills/ The system is shot/ I'm living on pills/ For which I thank G-d
I followed the course/ From chaos to art/ Desire the horse/ Depression the cart
I sailed like a swan/ I sank like a rock/ But time is long gone/ Past my laughing stock
My page was too white/ My ink was too thin/ The day wouldn't write/ What the night penciled in
My animal howls/ My angel's upset/ But I'm not allowed/ A trace of regret
For someone will use/ What I couldn't be/ My heart will be hers/ Impersonally
She'll step on the path/ She'll see what I mean/ My will cut in half/ And freedom between
For less than a second/ Our lives will collide/ The endless suspended/ The door open wide
Then she will be born/ To someone like you/ What no one has done/ She'll continue to do
I know she is coming/ I know she will look/ And that is the longing/ And this is the book"
It's perhaps not Cohen's best song, but there is something I love about this poem.