Books are immortal sons deifying their sires.

Plato

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Jainy
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Jainy sells for three dimes a night
Morning helps her find her way blind
And I love her more than I can tell
Heaven help me now
Seems I found to find her just as well
 
Jainy yea,
Jainy yea
 
Jainy takes me three times a night
Morning saves me and I find my way blind
And she loves me more than she can tell
Heaven help her now
Seems she's found to find me just as well
 
Jainy yea,
Jainy yea
 
Jainy stares at stars every night
Morning takes her eyes every time
And she'll love you more than you can tell
Heaven help us now
Seems you've finally found us, just as well
 
Jainy yea,
Jainy yea
 
She'll be all right
She'll be all right