well i know the trouble when the trouble starts. i know the signals of a straying heart. i know the stirrings of a double-cross. i see suspicions arise around you. i know the chatter as it starts to creep. i know the walls as they ring and repeat. i know the secrets they were meant to keep. i see suspicions arise. it's a shame
when the follies of your weekend hang like smoke onto your clothes. and the shame of it grows when you whisper it nice and low. but all the walls have ears my darling
and all bad things get known. and i know about you. i know about you. i know the ceiling when it starts to burn. i know the season when it starts to turn. and i know that the patterns that the wicked learn. and i see suspicions arise around you. i know the curtain and the way it falls. i know the burden and the pain it draws. i know you're sorry for something
when the follies of your weekend hang like smoke onto your clothes. and the shame of it grows when you whisper it nice and low. but all the walls have ears my darling