Jeane the low life has lost its appeal
and I'm tired of walking these streets to a room that is always bare
Jeane- I'm not sure what happiness means
but when i look in your eyes...
it isn't there
Jeane- there's ice on the sink were we bathe
how can you call this a home
when you know its a grave
gash on the nail
oh, its just a fairy-tale, Jeane...
and I'm tired of walking these streets to a room that is always bare
Jeane- I'm not sure what happiness means
but when i look in your eyes...
it isn't there
Jeane- there's ice on the sink were we bathe
how can you call this a home
when you know its a grave
gash on the nail
oh, its just a fairy-tale, Jeane...