Jane, she got excavated by a trader, dealing in old linesThen she got her papers from a mailer, telling them all liesSo here we go, down an endless road where we knowNothing good here will ever grow, we're wasting our own timeSays she knows more than she lets on, that's how she gets onWhen she is outsideWhen the wind comes on harder, she needs a shelterOut of the warm lightsSo here we go, down an endless road where we knowNothing good here will ever grow, we're wasting our own timeBetter know, everyday life will carry onEveryday when you're not so strong, you're wasting your own timeShe was taken that Sunday, to a safe place, dealing in this lineThen she got her papers from a faceless, won't tell her one more timeSo here we go, down an endless road where we knowNothing good here will ever grow, we're wasting our own timeBetter know, everyday life will carry onEveryday when you're not so strong, you're wasting your own time*