Leonard Cohen - Dance me to the end of love

Songs and your ability to remember the very first time you heard them, yeah?
It's somewhere in early '85, I know for sure way before summer, because I was still attending school and it was still fairly dark in the early morning when I had to get up and get ready to go to school. Where I lived back then, man, a part of me would love to one day go back to that house and just take a good look at it - for many, many reasons that I won't speak about here, I absolutely dreaded living in that house.
But in my mind it's something that just looms so large, I remember it as being very spacious and comfortable, with two rooms, a large living room, a nice kitchen, and a shared backyard where us kids would play. Somewhere in that house there would have been a radio - my memory is telling me that it was in the bathroom, and try as I might, I can't actually picture it anywhere else. The living room had our stereo - actually just the record player - and my parents had an alarm clock, and maybe it had a radio as well. I recall it being white, or off-white; the kind of white that slowly turns a dirtier shade and begins to yellow with time.
It's very early in the morning, around 7 a.m. or so, and my parents are already fighting over something. I'm seven years old, my brother is ten and my sister is three. The fighting continues as I stand motionless in the doorway to my room, and I'm crying because I don't want my parents to fight.
My brother is somewhere else, probably in the kitchen eating his cereal, or maybe he's brushing his teeth already.
Somewhere that radio is playing, not too loud, not so loud it drowns out the fighting, but loud enough for me to hear the sadness being sung.
I didn't know what song it was, nor did I know who sang it, but it became imprinted deep in my psyche.
Slow and mournful, a waltz turned into a dirge, the music flowed from the ether to my soul. Those precious few minutes spent there that morning would become ingrained in me.
I wouldn't know of Leonard Cohen until a few years later, and the song itself would take me a few more years to return to me.
It's funny because I'm remembering now things and places that don't exist anymore, all those smaller, as well as larger, record stores that mostly disappeared in the early aughties. It would have been in one of those, nestled within some tiny shopping centre that's now defunct or derelict, that those notes would haunt me again.
I'll dance, I promise, I'll dance to the end, to the very end.