Jennie That Cries
Jennie's from across the world
Jennie's from across the ocean
Though she's really just another girl,
to me she seems to mean a hell of a lot
And Jennie's got a lot to say
She keeps me up talking late in the night
and passes the time away with tales of all she's seen
in her twenty years of life she's been oevery t.v. show and
cereal box at the grocery store... according to her
And she hides her good looks behind the books that she writes
but inside, I know that she's dying
She'll hide away 'til another day
when the rain that is falling is suddenly calling her name
'Cause Jennie keeps her sins and her painful memories
locked up in a box of photographic memories
keeps them on a leash and then reviews them every Sabbath Day
And Jennie used to go to school
I used to see her set up in the grass
with her canvas and her stool,
painting all the kids that were walking past
Jennie do you sometimes wish
that you could be just like the boys and girls
and get your Saturday night kiss?
It's hard to be from across the world...
So Jennie keeps her pain in the art on her canvas ,
in her paintbrush strokes, boy, the way that she'll brandish
her pencil like a knife , still she'll somehow manage
to get away with life... according to her
And she don't do drugs, so there's no escape that way
from her locked-up box of photographic memories
When she wakes at night with tears in her eyes
I call her Jennie That Cries
I call her Jennie That Cries
I comfort Jennie That Cries