Charles Walton Jones

February 11, 2017


When Jeff Buckley asked if he could record Leonard Cohen's "Hallelujah," Cohen sent over a notebook with 80 verses telling Buckley to just pick the ones he liked. The song, like life itself, is complicated, confusing and contradictory. It's lyrics, like many of our hallelujahs, are indeed cold and broken, yet beautiful and tender. That reason alone made the song fitting for Walton's memorial service.

 

Well, I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this:
The fourth, the fifth, the minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

Baby, I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor (you know)
I used to live alone before I knew ya
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

There was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do ya?
But remember when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath we drew was Hallelujah

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah...

Maybe there's a God above
But all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew ya
And it's not a cry that you hear at night
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah...
Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah
Hallelujah, hallelujah

 

He would have been 30 next week--most definitely by now, a "grown ass man" who could drink all the Dr. Pepper he wanted. While not a day goes by when he's not somehow a part of how I experience life, the link below is a particularly good way to remember him-sharing life with people he loved.

 

Watch Walton's memorial slideshow here.  

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© 2016 by Charles D. Jones