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Open Book

de Ed Harcourt

It's clear to us this love affair
Has self-combusted everywhere
And I don't feel so debonair
My piano collects dust
A funeral with no mourners
I wished that I'd turned corners
To see the signs that warn us
But I didn't make a fuss

Well my life keeps on spinning
Amidst this drunken procession

I can't learn my lessons
These plates that I'm spinning
Soon they'll smash on the ground
Make a loud crashing sound
And I am still an open book
And you can have a secret look inside

As children make their way to class
I sit and raise another glass
'Cause you don't dwell much on the past
When it keeps haunting you
The marching band stomps down the block
And make the babies' cradles rock
And my keys they won't turn the lock
Perhaps I don't want them to

Well my life keeps on spinning

'Midst this drunken procession
I can't learn my lessons
These plates that I'm spinning
Soon they'll smash on the ground
Make a loud crashing sound
And I am still an open book
And you can have a secret look inside

Inside

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