Jennie's from across the world   Jennie's from across the ocean   Though she's really just another girl,   to me she seems to mean a hell of a lot   And Jennie's got a lot to say   She keeps me up talking late in the night   and passes the time away with tales of all she's seen   in her twenty years of life she's been oevery t.v. show and   cereal box at the grocery store... according to her      And she hides her good looks behind the books that she writes   but inside, I know that she's dying   She'll hide away 'til another day   when the rain that is falling is suddenly calling her name      'Cause Jennie keeps her sins and her painful memories   locked up in a box of photographic memories   keeps them on a leash and then reviews them every Sabbath Day      And Jennie used to go to school   I used to see her set up in the grass   with her canvas and her stool,   painting all the kids that were walking past   Jennie do you sometimes wish   that you could be just like the boys and girls   and get your Saturday night kiss?   It's hard to be from across the world...      So Jennie keeps her pain in the art on her canvas ,   in her paintbrush strokes, boy, the way that she'll brandish   her pencil like a knife , still she'll somehow manage   to get away with life... according to her      And she don't do drugs, so there's no escape that way   from her locked-up box of photographic memories   When she wakes at night with tears in her eyes   I call her Jennie That Cries   I call her Jennie That Cries   I comfort Jennie That Cries