Angela Mccluskey

Famous Blue Raincoat

Angela Mccluskey


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, 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 never came home without Lili Marlene 
So you treated some woman to a flake of your life 
When she got 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
Oh what can I tell you
What can I tell you 
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
Here for Jane or for me 
Your enemy is sleeping
And your woman is free

Yes, and thanks
For the trouble you took from her eyes 
I thought it was there for good
So I never really 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