She always knows She always knows what to do I'm glad she's just a friend and doesn't know the crew
I never tell her my story She reads every page herself She never touches the exhibits the essences of me elegantly arranged upon the shelves
She always knows She always knows what to do I'm glad shes just a friend and never knew the crew
She paces in silence Slight smirk under her eyes As she wanders around my gallery galaxies analogies of abnormal realities Seen from within the guise
She always knows She always knows what to do I'm glad she's just a friend And will never know the crew
Every so often she pauses Her footsteps resound The curator looks up interested and solicited a reaction uninhibited From a mind profound
She always knows She always knows what to do I'm glad she's just a friend And doesn't want to know the crew
Her analysis is always unique And as if she was the artist The curator thinks, in retrospect she is correct. As she walks out the exit Her path is marked by a trail of stardust.
She always knows She always knows what to do I'm glad she's just a friend And is unknown to the crew