The End of December
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
“Famous Blue Raincoat” Leonard Cohen
i can’t find Chelsea Piers