It's four in the morning, the end of December <br />I'm writing you now just to see if you're better <br />New York is cold, but I like where I'm living <br />There's music on Clinton Street all through the evening. <br /> <br />I hear that you're building your little house deep in the desert <br />You're living for nothing now, I hope you're keeping some kind of record. <br /> <br />Yes, and Jane came by with a lock of your hair <br />She said that you gave it to her <br />That night that you planned to go clear <br />Did you ever go clear? <br /> <br />Ah, the last time we saw you you looked so much older <br />Your famous blue raincoat was torn at the shoulder <br />You'd been to the station to meet every train <br />And you came home without Lili Marlene <br /> <br />And you treated my woman to a flake of your life <br />And when she came back she was nobody's wife. <br /> <br />Well I see you there with the rose in your teeth <br />One more thin gypsy thief <br />Well I see Jane's awake <br /> <br />She sends her regards. <br />And what can I tell you my brother, my killer <br />What can I possibly say? <br />I guess that I miss you, I guess I forgive you <br />I'm glad you stood in my way. <br /> <br />If you ever come by here, for Jane or for me <br />Well your enemy is sleeping, and his woman is free. <br /> <br />Yes, and thanks, for the trouble you took from her eyes <br />I thought it was there for good so I never tried. <br /> <br />And Jane came by with a lock of your hair <br />She said that you gave it to her <br />That night that you planned to go clear
