HALLELUJAH IN THE STREETS

with every breath we draw

Listen, People—my People,

I’m not going to sugarcoat this. We’re in a moment that would make Thomas Jefferson reach for the bourbon and Thomas Paine start building barricades.

This poem isn’t precious. It’s not asking for your approval. It’s showing up on your doorstep at 10AM with coffee, clipboard, and sensible shoes—because we have work to do.

Yes, it borrows from Leonard Cohen—and frankly, I think he’d approve of the repurposing. (If his people don’t, well, they can send me a strongly worded letter on Substack.) When things go sideways in a democracy, you use whatever tools you’ve got.

So, here is

⸻

HALLELUJAH IN THE STREETS

I heard there was a secret vote

With freedom hanging by the throat,

But you don’t really care for ballots, do ya?

It goes like this—the court, the lie,

The gavel falls, the people cry,

The shattered voice still sings out Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

Your faith is strong, you stand your ground,

You march when riot gear comes down—

They fired gas, but still we pushed right through ya.

We lit a candle in the square,

We wrote our names in tear-streaked air,

And every cry became a Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

Baby, we’ve been here before—

This bitter script, this blood-stained floor,

We carry signs where once we carried futures.

Our flag hangs limp from weathered poles,

They claim the land but not our souls,

And still we rise and whisper Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

They jailed the truth, they broke the press,

They told us silence equals blessed—

But we’re the truth that history can’t undo ya.

We bring the drums, we bring the light,

We bring our bodies into night,

And set the sky on fire with Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

There was a time we thought we’d won—

Rights passed down from hand to hand,

But now they hide the truth and legislate ya.

They drew the lines, they broke the vows,

They shuttered schools and stormed the House—

But we remember, and we shout Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

We link our arms against the tide,

Ten thousand strangers, side by side,

When power builds its walls to block and sue ya.

We face the guns with open palms,

We stand unmoved through false alarms,

Our bodies form a human Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

They mock our pain, they laugh at fear,

They call for cells to hold us here,

They praise the men who cage and hate and bruise ya.

But through the bars, beyond the wire,

Our voices join to form a choir,

A song that breaks the chains with Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

They took the books, they banned the page,

They passed the fear from age to age,

But we are louder than the dark they drew ya.

We spell our stories on the wall,

We will not kneel, we will not crawl,

We build a world that sings out Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

The streets are filled with beating hearts,

From countless homes, a movement starts,

When they brand us “threats,” they think that they can fool ya.

We cross the bridges, fill the squares,

Our voices rise like common prayers,

Each footstep echoes with a Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

Maybe there’s a light above,

But all I’ve learned from those I love

Is stand together, never let them rule ya.

It’s not a hymn you hum alone,

It’s not a law—it’s flesh and bone,

It’s marching feet that thunder Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

You say we speak the name in vain,

But we are fire. We are rain.

We’re countless voices rising up to move ya.

There’s a blaze of light in every word—

No law can silence what is heard

When we rise up and roar our Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

⸻

We hold the line, we face the storm,

With linked arms we keep each other warm—

No prison talk or threat can just subdue ya.

And though the path ahead seems long,

We’ll stand as one, ten million strong,

With nothing on our tongues but Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah… Hallelujah.

⸻

For God’s Sake, Do Something With This

Here’s what you’re not going to do: You’re not going to just email this to yourself, not going to bookmark it, not going to think “wow, how lovely” and then go back to binge-watching reruns of Law & Order: American Collapse Unit.

That’s not why this exists.

Print it out. On actual paper. Take it to that meeting where nobody mentions the elephant—no, the entire damn zoo—in the room.

Read it aloud. Watch what happens to people’s faces.

Text it to your college roommate in Florida.

Send it to your aunt who still thinks politics is a spectator sport.

Mail it to your senator with a sticky note:

“I’m watching you.”

And when the church ladies whisper,

and your HOA president clutches his pearls,

and your high school friend posts “This is too political,”

you’ll know you’ve done something right.

Because this poem isn’t for gentle nodding. It’s meant to be a match. It’s meant to burn. If reading it doesn’t make you uncomfortable, I’ve failed. If sharing it doesn’t make someone else uncomfortable, you’ve failed.

Now light the damn fuse.

Forward, always forward! Gloria

⸻

"Hallelujah" was an extremely challenging song for Cohen to write. He reportedly spent about five years crafting it, writing between 80 and 180 draft verses. Cohen himself claimed he wrote 150 draft verses, which is substantiated by his notebooks containing numerous revisions and additions.

The writing process was often painful for Cohen. During one famous writing session at New York's Royalton Hotel, Cohen was reportedly reduced to sitting on the floor in his underwear, filling notebooks, and literally banging his head on the floor in frustration.

When Cohen first recorded "Hallelujah" at age 50, he described it as "rather joyous" and said that it came from "a desire to affirm my faith in life, not in some formal religious way, but with enthusiasm, with emotion."

Cohen later explained: "There is a religious hallelujah, but there are many other ones. When one looks at the world, there's only one thing to say, and it's hallelujah."

In a 1988 interview, Cohen provided perhaps his most substantial explanation of the song: "This world is full of conflicts and full of things that cannot be reconciled. But there are moments when we can reconcile and embrace the whole mess, and that's what I mean by 'Hallelujah.' That's the only moment that we live here fully as human beings."

When discussing the mysterious nature of artistic inspiration, Cohen once said: "If I knew where a song came from, I would go there more often."

I heard there was a secret vote

With freedom hanging by a thread,

But you don’t really care for ballots, do ya?

It goes like this—the court, the lie,

The gavel falls, the people cry,

The shattered voice still sings out Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Your faith is strong, you stand your ground,

You march when riot gear comes down—

They fired gas, but still we pushed right through ya.

We lit a candle in the square,

We wrote our names in tear-streaked air,

And every cry became a Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Baby, we’ve been here before—

This bitter script, this blood-stained floor,

We carry signs where once we carried futures.

Our flag hangs limp from weathered poles,

They claim the land but not our souls,

And still we rise and whisper Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

They jailed the truth, they broke the press,

They told us silence equals blessed—

But we’re the truth that history can’t undo ya.

We bring the drums, we bring the light,

We bring our bodies into night,

And set the sky on fire with Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

There was a time we thought we’d won—

Rights passed down from hand to hand,

But now they hide the truth and legislate ya.

They drew the lines, they broke the vows,

They shuttered schools and stormed the House—

But we remember, and we shout Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

We link our arms against the tide,

Ten thousand strangers, side by side,

When power builds its walls to block and sue ya.

We face the guns with open palms,

We stand unmoved through false alarms,

Our bodies form a human Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

They mock our pain, they laugh at fear,

They call for cells to hold us here,

They praise the men who cage and hate and bruise ya.

But through the bars, beyond the wire,

Our voices join to form a choir,

A song that breaks the chains with Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

They took the books, they banned the page,

They passed the fear from age to age,

But we are louder than the dark they drew ya.

We spell our stories on the wall,

We will not kneel, we will not crawl,

We build a world that sings out Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

The streets are filled with beating hearts,

From countless homes, a movement starts,

When they brand us “threats,” they think that they can fool ya.

We cross the bridges, fill the squares,

Our voices rise like common prayers,

Each footstep echoes with a Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Maybe there’s a light above,

But all I’ve learned from those I love

Is stand together, never let them rule ya.

It’s not a hymn you hum alone,

It’s not a law—it’s flesh and bone,

It’s marching feet that thunder Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

You say we speak the name in vain,

But we are fire. We are rain.

We’re countless voices rising up to move ya.

There’s a blaze of light in every word—

No law can silence what is heard

When we rise up and roar our Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

We hold the line, we face the storm,

With linked arms we keep each other warm—

No prison talk or threat can just subdue ya.

And though the path ahead seems long,

We’ll stand as one, ten million strong,

With nothing on our tongues but Hallelujah.

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah

Hallelujah… Hallelujah.