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Newman |
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In my neighbourhood, where folks don't live so good now |
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The rooms are small, most of building's made of wood |
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I hear the neighbours talking about you and me |
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Yes, I've heard most every word |
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'Cause the talking's loud, and the walls are much too thin |
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"She don't really love him" |
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Oh, that's what I heard them say |
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"She sure wasn't thinking of him today" |
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"I saw her in the courtyard", said that girl in room 1-49 |
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"Talking to a boy I've never seen before |
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And standing there together, don't you know they looked so fine" |
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No, I don't want to hear it anymore |
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I don't want to hear it anymore |
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'Cause the talk just never ends |
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And the heartache soon begins |
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The talk is so loud and the walls- they're much too thin |
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"Lord, ain't it sad", said the woman across the hall |
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"That a nice boy like that falls in love |
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Hey, it's just too bad that he had to go and fall |
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For a girl who doesn't care for him at all" |
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No, I don't want to hear it anymore |
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I don't want to hear it anymore |
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'Cause the talk just never ends |
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And the heartache soon begins |
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Oh, they talk so loud |
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And the walls are much too thin |
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Oh, I wish they wouldn't talk so loud |
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And expose my heartache to the crowd |
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These walls around me are so thin |
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Sometimes I think they're moving in |
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Yeah... |
