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    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

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