She wouldn’t need to be a bird without a wing
Or be a servant to a telephone ring
She could be sleeping in the comfort of another bed
It wouldn’t matter to a man with an open heart
Here comes right now
She could be moodydramatic as a play
Or be evasive as a shadow in the shade
Could be irregular and singing in her underwear
It wouldn’t matter to a man with an open heart
Here comes right now
Her wild and wise womanly introspectiveness
Her faults and files of foolishness
Wouldn’t matter to a man with an open heart
Here comes right now