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Jane is fine, always fine |
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We're unhappy most of the time |
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We don't talk, we don't fight |
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I'm just tired, she's way past caring |
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But she says, she is fine |
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She tells lies most of the time |
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What she needs, I don't have |
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That's not in the hand that I'm holding |
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So we drink spanish wine |
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She plays country records until the morning |
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This is mine, all of mine |
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She is not, she is not mine |
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But I feel fine |
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Only when I'm sleeping |
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Only with the tv on |
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She and I and empty wine and whisky bottles |
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And she white beneath crumpled sheets |
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She is everything I need |
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But she would rather be |
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Any place but here |
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Jane is fine, always fine |
|
We're unhappy most of the time |
|
We don't talk, we don't fight |
|
I'm just tired, she's way past caring |
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So we drink spanish wine |
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We tell lies, we're killing time |
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And we feel fine |
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Well, what's the crime? |
