Gone! Gone! All is gone. Alone I am
-- destroyed, abandoned, without Jane.
Tears awake me in the morning,
in the evening they remain.
Flinging prayers up to the heavens,
I beat my breast, I tear my hair,
who can save me, calm my turmoil,
end my gut-wrenching despair?
How it started, I remember:
-- young man bearing paper came,
telling me that if I'd sign it,
I'd get fortune, fruit, and fame.
Ah, how foolish can a man be,
for how little trade his all?
In exchange for pointless trinkets,
jungle-home became a mall.
Jane! Oh Jane! My wonder woman,
leaving me in depths of grief!
How could I know that that nice man
was a scheming little thief?
Now I sit and watch the telly,
drink, and see my belly grow;
ever after I will wallow
in this pit of churning woe.