I know why the writing on her face appears, Because she can't say All the things on her mind Everyday she begs me 'Please, oh please you have to understand And read between all of the lines' Time goes down the drain Love can be the same Every morning, she's afraid to wash her face Because she knows that no one Could then read her mind So instead, she passes all her time By always making sure That the writing is catching your eye When I try to kiss her pretty face, She always shies away And says 'Some of the ink isn't dry' And I try so hard to sympathize, But really all I know is that if I can't have her, I'll die Then one day she looked into the mirror, Only to discover all that she read was a lie Then she turned to me and said 'My love, I can't decide if I'm going dyslexic or blind'