She’s got rags around her fingers
And paint in her hair
To me she’s a masterpiece
Though she’s not all there

Jane is a blowup doll
Jane’s a piece of thread
Jane thinks its normal,
All the shit inside my head.

She’s a thrift store connoisseur
And she laughs at broken bones
I know she’ll never hurt me
And I’ll never be alone.

Jane’s a bookstore junkie
Jane’s an unwritten song
Jane is not a child
She grew up for far too long.

She’s a caged animal
An angel without the wings
She hides behind spider webs
And other dusty things.

Jane is a paper lantern
Jane is the Dead Sea
Jane waits for no one
But she’ll always wait for me.

The world all thinks she’s crazy
The world all thinks she’s sick
The world is against my baby
Holding down the dwindling wick.

So fuck your sense of normal
And fuck your sincere dread
Fuck you for trying
To fuck with our heads.

Jane is my Sonata
Jane is my saint
Jane walks on water
So take her hand and faint