A strange thing: something common, but unfamiliar. Something private, but not secret. Call it Jenny: a name for the form that inflames. Call it Lust: a name for the flame that informs what is said, as it interferes with the saying. Say the "J" word (Jenny!) and I'll say the "L" word every time.
Lyrics not available at this time
She don't hang around with the gang no more
She don't do the wild things that she did before
She used to act bad, she used to but she quit it
It makes me so sad becasue I know that she did it for me
And I can see her heart, her herat is out in the streets
She don't comb her hair like she did before
And she don't wear those dirty old black boots no more
But she's not the same, something about her kisses tell me she's changed
almost like something is missing inside
Something died in her heart
Her heart is out of stride
[??? A lot of stuff I don't understand ???]
She don't hang around with the gang no more
Gee she doesn't smile like she did before
I wish I didn't care, I wish I never met her
They're waiting out there, so I gotta set her free
She's gotta be her heart, her heart is out in the street.
(Lyrics as interpreted by Allan Hise <hise@io.com>)
Lyrics not available at this time.
Date created: 10 October 1995 Last modified: 17 March 1997 Maintained by: Allan Hise hise@io.com