Famous Blue Raincoat
It's four in the morning, the end of decemberI'm writing you now just to see if you're betterNew york is cold, but I like where I'm livingThere's music on clinton street all through the evening.
I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desertYou're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record.
Yes, and jane came by with a lock of your hairShe said that you gave it to herThat night that you planned to go clearDid you ever go clear?
Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much olderYour famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulderYou'd been to the station to meet every trainAnd you came home without lili marlene]And you treated my woman to a flake of your lifeAnd when she came back she was nobody's wife.
Well I see you there with the rose in your teethOne more thin gypsy thiefWell I see jane's awake --
She sends her regards.And what can I tell you my brother, my killerWhat can I possibly say?I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive youI'm glad you stood in my way.
If you ever come by here, for jane or for meYour enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free.
Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyesI thought it was there for good so I never tried.
And jane came by with a lock of your hairShe said that you gave it to herThat night that you planned to go clear
-- sincerely, l. cohen