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?  

 

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 meet every train  

And 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.  

 

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 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  

Your enemy is sleeping, and 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