I know right?

I started to talk and she said
"I KNOW, RIGHT?"
I hadn't even started to talk
So I started again and she cut me cold
She said "I said I KNOW,"
right, but what did she know?

Was it what I would have said?
I didn't know, so
I puzzled it out, and
I came to the point
where I had to ask,
I had to confirm

and I looked again, waiting on eye contact
she breathed impatiently one time,
a pout, then turned her eyes
on fair but firm, and said

"I KNOW, RIGHT?"
I said no, wrong
She said "HOW DO YOU KNOW?"
I said I'm writing this song
She said she'd written the short story
upon which it was based,
and I'd sadly misinterpreted
the look on its face,
I said "I know, right?"

This did not rescue things.
She huffed and puffed and blew me down
and called me a pig.
She said she was the villain
she'd been all along,
and I'd cast her all wrong

I said baby, that's your story
but this here's my song.

And then I tipped my hat
but underneath, there was another
one. In bidding her adieu,
I doffed cap after cap,
showered her with chapeaus.
Delighted by a few of them,
we were reconciled, but

she sternly warned me next time
not to stick in my nose.