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Blue raincoat

Three in the morning,
a cold December.
I'm writing to you this letter
of hurtful verses.
Here in New York
I feel so free
There's music all the time, it's amazing.
 
I know you're building
a cabin in the desert.
And that you live with nothing,
I hope you still keep some memories.
 
And Jane brought with her a lock of hair
saying, 'Ha gave it to me'
That night you were going to talk
Did you finally do it?
 
With your blue and poiseless raincoat
I saw you at the station, going nowhere,
you stood there waiting for some train,
then came back home without Lili Marleen.
You treated my wife as if she was a breeze
flying in the air, and when she came back
she was nobody's wife.
 
There you are, climbing up the balcony,
one more cheerful thief.
She's here again
She says, 'What's going on? How are you?'
 
What can I tell you, my killer brother
who lives with no law.
I forgive you, you know it,
and I miss you,
the crown is kingless.
 
If you ever come by
for her or for me,
your enemy is sleeping
and his wife is not happy.
 
And you come down the river of light
that leads to her sad eyes.
You see now, I couldn't do it.
 
And Jane brought with her a lock of hair
saying, 'Ha gave it to me'
That night you were going to talk
 
Kind regards, L. Cohen
 


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