Book Song

Is this me?
I’ll say it to myself so you don’t think that I’m crazy
This club is soulless and I think that I would rather be
Writing the pages of a book that you’ll read quietly
Inside your house all by yourself, that’s where I want to be
Rock 'n' roll
I never aimed to own the stage or to sell my soul
I’d rather write a book with characters whose lives unfold
And bring you coffee in the morning when outside it’s cold
While you read the first draft, «Ah,» you say, «this is gold!»
In a dream
That’s where I am until I find the literary stream
And then I’ll swim to save my life and write a book about your wife
And how she sits inside her house all day and writes, and writes
The pages bound, the crowd applauding at the writer’s fair
Each person takes a copy home to bed and holds it there
Holds it there
Holds it there
Holds it there
Holds it there
Holds it there