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?