She's writing, she's writing, she's writing a novel
She's writing, she's weaving, conceiving a plot
It quickens, it thickens, you can't put it down now
It takes you, it shakes you, it makes you lose your thought
But you're caught in your own glory
You are believing your own stories
Writing your own headlines
Ignoring your own deadlines
But now you've gotta' write them all again.
You think she's an open book
But you don't know which page to turn to
Do you
You think she's an open book
But you don't know which page to turn to
Do you
Do you
Do you
You want her, confront her, just open your window
Unbolt it, unlock it, unfasten your latch
You want it, confront it, just open your window
All you really have to do is ask
But you're caught in your own glory
You are believing your own stories
Timing your contractions
Inventing small contraptions
That'll roll across your parlor's hardwood floors
You think she's an open book
But you don't know which page to turn to
Do you
You think she's an open book
But you don't know which page to turn to
Do you
Do you
Do you
You think she's an open book
But you don't know which page to turn to
Do you
Do you
Do you
Do you