She’s looking for a good thing

One that takes up all her time

And gives her a good excuse

To get the hell out on Saturday night

She wants to know nothing

About the writer behind the lines

To get lost in a plot

That grows without thought

Like blackberries on a vine

She gets to feelin’ fine

But she’s not who you thought

You would find

No she’s not who you thought

You would find

She’s way up here

And you’re so far behind

She’s dancing on the table

She’s drinking all the wine

And putting to good use

All that she’s worked for

It’s Saturday night

She wants to know something

About the wrongs that lead to a right

And to knock down the blocks

That locked out her thoughts

A child holding up a sign

She’ll get along just fine

But she’s not who you thought

You would find

No she’s not who you thought

You would find

She’s way the hell up here

And you’re so far behind