tip of the bomb

Plain Jane

She's the kind of girl who leaves each and every curl out of place, 'cause that's the place that they should be.
With her smile just like a street lamp that flickers in the dark, but, never really shines for you to see.
And her laugh just like 100 thousand steeple bells at once and it sounds just like Amazing Grace. As I stand outside her window in the dark and in the damp, just to catch a fleeting glimpse of her face.
And she walks all alone down these crowded city streets, where no one ever smiles and no one ever meets.

And I will soothe you in your sorrow.
Comfort you in pain.
Stand by you tomorrow
When you're standing in the rain,
And I will sing
Your sad refrain,
Plain Jane.

Well she's the kind of girl who never has too much to say, 'cause most things are better left unsaid. She got a bottle in her kitchen, a picture on her wall and a Bible by her bed.
She's the kind of girl who'll make you stop and ask yourself what you ever saw in all those pin-up smiles
And all those unromantic lovers with their half-beating hearts, no strength, no passion and no style. And she'll tell you that she loves you, then she'll turn and walk away.
'Cause that's all there is to it, there ain't nothin' more to say.


She don't need to be justified,
She's got nothin' left to prove,
to those back-street boys who stand mystified,
And follow her each and every move.


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