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
But she says she is fine, she tells lies most of the time
What she needs I don't have, that's not in the hand that I'm holding
So we drink spanish wine, she plays country records until the morning
This is mine all of mine, she is not she is not mine
And I feel fine only when I'm sleeping only with the TV on
She and I and empty wine and whisky bottles
And she write beneath crumpled sheets
She is everything I need but she would rather be any place but here
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
So we drink spanish wine we tell lies, we're killing and we feel fine
Well what's the crime?
