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
