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
The night that you planned to go clear
Did you ever go clear?
Oh 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 still you came back without Lily 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 a rose in your teeth
One more thin gypsy thief
Well I see Jane's awake
She sends her regards
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
Your enemy is sleeping
And his woman is free
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
The night that you planned to go clear
Sincerely L Cohen