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, 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 never came home without Lili Marlene
So you treated some woman to a flake of your life
When she got home 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
Oh what can I tell you
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
Here for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping
And 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
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, 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 never came home without Lili Marlene
So you treated some woman to a flake of your life
When she got home 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
Oh what can I tell you
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
Here for Jane or for me
Your enemy is sleeping
And 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