Famous Blue Raincoat

It's four in the morning, the end of December I'm writing you now just to see if you're better New York is cold, but I like where I'm living There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert You're 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 you planned 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 But then you came home without Lili Marlene. And you treated my woman to a flake of your life And when she came back she was nobody's wife I see you there with the 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 that you stood in my way If you ever come by here for Jane or for me I want you to know that your enemy is sleeping I want you to know that his 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 that you planned to go clear Sincerely, L. Cohen