Lyrics
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
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
Yes, I see Jane's awake
So what can I tell you my brother, my killer
What can I possibly say?
I guess I forgive you, I guess that I miss you
And 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 guess it was there for good, I guess I never tried
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
