New York has been buried in snow since last Saturday The papers said the storm had passed over you Thank you for the play you wrote about Heloise And her injury at the hand of an almighty memory And I might have guessed you'd press A rose in the pages Where Abelard confesses His love and his pain To her lips And Nora, it was no sin They could turn the other cheek And take it on the chin But Nora, it was no sin So Christmas was as blue for you as it was for me All those angels trumpeting their ecstasy Your husband has accepted the parish in Greenland I met him drowning his vows at the bar And there we raised The first and the next And a third glass to you Hunched on our bar-stools Calling our truce By your name And Nora, there is no sin We can turn the other cheek And take it on the chin But Nora, there is no sin Nora, there is no sin Nora, there is no sin