it's four in the moring, the gnd of december
i'm writing you now just to see if you'r better
new york is cold but i like where i'm living
there's music on clinton street all thru the evening
i hear that you'r building your little house
deep in the desert
you'r living for nothing now
i hope you're keeping some kind of record
yes and jane came by with a lock of your hair
she said that you gave it to her
that night that planneded to go clear
did you ever go clear?
the last time we saw you. you looked so much older
your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder
you'd been to the station to meet every train
you came home alon without lili marlene
and you treated my woman to a flake of your life
and when she cameback she was nobodys wife
well., i see you there with a rose in your teeth
one more thin gypsy thief
well, i see jane's awake
she sends her regards
and what can i tell you my brother, my killer
what can i possibly say
i guess that i miss you, i guess i forgive you
i'm glad you stood in my way.
if you ever come by here for jane or for me
well, your enemy is sleeping and your woman is free
yes, and thanks for the trouble you took from her eyes
i thought it was there for good so i never tried.
and jane came by with a lock of your hair
she said that you gave it to her
that night you planned to go clear
sincerely , l.cohen