It's four in the morning, the end of December
I write 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
Now you're living for nothing now
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
But you came home alone without Lili Marlene
And you treated my woman to a little flake of your life
And when she came 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
And what can I tell you, my brother, my killer?
What can I possibly say?
I guess 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 a 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
Ah, 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
Since you lay there, I'll come