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 free

Did you ever go free?

Ah, 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 lead every train

But you never came back coming Lili Marlene

So you treated my woman to a flake of your life

When she came back she was nobody's wife.

Well 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, and what can I tell you,

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

Your enemy is sleeping, and his/ 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 really 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