Family, friends and relationships
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
And 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
A north country maid up to London has strayed
Although with her nature it did not agree.
So she wept and she sighed and bitterly she cried,
"oh, I wish once again in the north I could be."
For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow green in the north country.
While sadly I roam I regret my dear home,
Where the lads and young lasses are making the hay.
Where the birds sweetly sing, and the merry bells do ring
And the maidens and meadows are pleasant and gay.
For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow green in the north country.
No doubt if I please, I could marry with ease,
Where maidens are fair, many lovers will come.
But he that I wed must be north country bred
And carry me back to my own country.
For the oak and the ash and the bonny ivy tree
They all grow so green in the north country.
Green are your eyes
In the morning when you rise.
Don't you be afraid, my love,
To lie by me,
Your father will not know.
Love can be broken
Though no words are spoken.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me my love,
Your father will not know.
Love, don't cry
I'll not try.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me, my love,
Your father will not know.
Yes love, don't you cry,
I'll not try.
Don't you be afraid to lie
By me, my love.
Your father will be told someday
About our wedding day.