and every night someone complains about it.
Nonetheless, every time someone clicks Play on this YouTube, a new blogger gets her keyboard.
It’s true. It’s a fact.
If you haven’t looked out at a crowd of your friends and family and thought, Ah, material! you’re not really a writer.
Every Day I Write the Book, by Elvis Costello
Lyrics over the jump:
Don’t tell me you don’t know what love is
When you’re old enough to know better
WHEN YOU FIND STRANGE HANDS IN YOUR SWEATER
When your dreamboat turns out to be a footnote
I’m a man with a mission in two or three editions
And I’m giving you a longing look
Everyday, everyday, everyday I write the book
Chapter One we didn’t really get along
Chapter Two I think I fell in love with you
You said you’d stand by me in the middle of Chapter Three
But you were up to your old tricks in Chapters Four, Five and Six
The way you walk
The way you talk, and try to kiss me, and laugh
In four or five paragraphs
All your compliments and your cutting remarks
Are captured here in my quotation marks
Don’t tell me you don’t know the difference
Between a lover and a fighter
With my pen and my electric typewriter
Even in a perfect world where everyone was equal
I’d still own the film rights and be working on the sequel