Jeane

Jeane
The low life has lost its appeal
And I'm tired of walking these streets
To a room with the cupboard bare
Jeane
I'm not sure what happiness means
But I look in your eyes
And it isn't there
Oh Jeane
There's ice on sink where we bathe
How can you call this a home
When you know it's a grave
Oh but you still hold that greedy grain
As you tidy the place
But it will never be clean
Jeane
We tried and we failed
We tried and we failed
Try
Cash on the nail
Oh, it's just a fairytale
And I don't believe in magic anymore
Oh Jeane
No heavenly choirs, no
Because I think that you know
I really think you know