She’s writing she’s writing   She’s writing a novel   She 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 that 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   Unbold 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 on your glory   You are believing your own stories   Timing your contractions   Inventing small contraptions   That roll across your polished hard wood 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?