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 t.v. 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?