I am leaving, I am leaving…

How's London? I just want to interrupt your tea for a moment to let you know what's been happening since you left. You know it kills me that you're in London now, goofing, while I'm here with three term papers ahead of me. And the album's sitting downtown at Columbia in our cubby.

Two things before I forget: Did you find a scooter for us? Call up the number I gave you, the guy knows all about these sort of things- he'll be very helpful. I expect to see you and the machine in Paris when I come after finals. Also send me the chords to "Wednesday Morning" because I expect to do singles at Gerde's for a few nights.

Tom asked me yesterday if I would write the album notes. I told him I thought the author should explain his own songs, but I'm reconsidering. In fact, it's a very pleasant task. I know how you feel about this, but I (your greatest advocate) want as many as possible to understand as much as possible. Please understand that mine is the difficult position more than slightly analogous to the man who received Franz Kafka's dying request to burn all his manuscripts, but who nonetheless felt obliging to rush off to the publisher at his first chance. The point is that you understanding the songs, me believing in their worth, and Columbia recording them, is really not sufficient. So I decided last night to write the following as a "listener's guide" to the songs:

[...]

Paul- let me know what you think. I tried to be as honest as I can. You know how [I] [We] feel- there may or may not be a market for intellectuality, but there is your personal feel for the material, and ours for the performance.

I promised I'd be down to the mastering next week to fight for the harmonica in "He Was My Brother." (Making an album is lots of fun.)

Listen, try and get us a job for when I come. And no singing in the streets.

This just keeps being so.... 🤯🥴