She opens her windows to Reed Street
And winces at the waft of the cool night air
Well nothing's serene in the glow of the city
She couldn't give a damn if I couldn't give a care
She's humming a song made famous by the News
The one where the Doc tries to shake off his blues
Well he'd go back in time if that movie was the truth
But to where, I couldn't say
Jenny says that she's all right
And then I say that we're all right here
If she'll admit that she's wound tight
I promise that I will disappear
I open my windows to the skyline
At least I would if I was facing east
And I've been having this thought about Jerusalem
Or was it a thought about Judas Priest?
And I can't say I've been dreaming
But I've been thinking that her legs are dangerous
And if it's time for us to start believing
We gotta start by finding some friends to trust
And Jenny says that she's all right
And then I say that we're all right here
If she'll admit that she's wound tight
I promise that I will disappear
Then she, for right or wrong, says praying won't do anything
And if we believed a bit stronger in Jesus, well you know we’re wasting energy
And then she, for right or wrong, says that staying won't do anything
If we believed a bit stronger in love, the ink on her wrist wouldn't be an elegy
I heard she was raised a Catholic
And these days that don't seem to matter much
But she caught me praying to Gaborik
Even though I'd said I believed in Prust
And time is such a fleeting feeling that I
Can't conceive a fifth dimension above it
And they say that we go to eleven
But I don't think that theory quite cuts it
Then she, for right or wrong, says praying won't do anything
And if we believed a bit stronger in Leibniz, well you know we’re wasting energy
And then she, for right or wrong, says that staying won't do anything
If we believed a bit stronger in love, the ink on her wrist wouldn't be an elegy
Our hearts are working overtime
And that means more is on the line
And we've both seen the lord before
She had the devil in her heart but her eyes wanted more
And then she, for right or wrong, says praying won't do anything
And if we believed a bit stronger in Elvis, well you know we’re wasting energy
And then she, for right or wrong, says that staying won't do anything
If we believed a bit stronger in love, the ink on her wrist wouldn't be an elegy
The ink on her wrist wouldn’t mean a thing, and it sure wouldn’t be an elegy