Poor Jane
As a child, she was sweet, she was cuter than gumdrops,
And every single smile was a beautiful sun spot,
A little tiny girl, barely flesh on her frame,
Now her life burns, staring tense at the flames,
Fueled by the fooled guys she gets with today,
She covered up her beauty with that sexual paint,
Mascara and cover up, glass mirrors, she struggles some,
Cuz she can't ever get her face to become undone,
But if you looked at pictures of her childhood days,
You would see a beautiful little child at play,
So much to do, her movements, a blur,
From paintin' pictures, gainin' wisdom that was suited to her,
But life, had brutally served, a different sight
to her eyes, only music was pure, it was a tool to the earth,
So everytime she would foolishly yearn
to gaze upon the face she donned she would be bluer than surf,
And each of her tears were the size of a small sea,
With each of her fears makin' cryin' default, she
reached, tried to steer, but her eyes would keep falling,
So she screamed, and she veered, still tryin' to call me,
And I can hear her voice in the whispers of breezes,
That kisses my cheeks with their lingering secrets,
But she stayed, insisting on pretense,
Then she layed where she may simply existing to please him,
Poor Jane, every guy played her like a game,
The chess pieces kept secrets, sayings that they gave,
She was baited by the pawn, and he attacked in kind,
So everytime she would try to react, she died,
Poor Jane, every day stays the same,
Every face that she sees is just playin' the game,
Another drink at the bar, another home run hit,
Another performance enhancing drug, a coke/rum binge,
Jane says, I'm not a rag doll,
I'm not that small, I'm just lost, I'm that gone,
And everytime I try, to find my way,
I get another heady guy that likes to play,
And if I steady my, sight today,
I might see who I truly am right away, I gotta life to make,
I got minds to change, people to meet,
I gotta different life to live, I gotta reach for my dreams,
And with that, I hope it gets easy to sleep,
I gotta come up with shit that I need to achieve,
Jane says, I'm just a sweet girl,
Caught up in the wrong kind of lifestyle, travelin' street worlds,
I was nicer, classy, controlled and calm,
Out of college, alcoholic, no goals or job,
With a whole list of problems chainin' these two arms,
I created abuse, with every stain on my futon,
I'm too gone, bombed, and I can't even turn back,
All I ever did was please men with stern grasp,
And now I'm alone, lost in the beer froth,
And now I'm alone, cept this bottle of Smirnoff,
Poor Jane, always stuck outside in the rain,
Cuz of games during her downtime that she played,
All alone, playin' telephone tag,
But no one responds, she should just sell the phone back,
Poor Jane, I think she's gonna cry for today,
For the simple fact that no one's there to wipe it away,
She used up all her love during one night stands,
Now past pictures are distorted from the sunshine's hands...
