Well I know the trouble when the trouble starts,
And I know the signal of a straying heart,
And I know the stirrings of a double cross,
And I see suspicion 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
And I see suspicion arise
It's a shame,
I know,
But it all shakes out real slow,
When all 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
I know the ceiling when it starts to burn,
I know the season when it starts to turn,
I know the patterns that the wicked learn,
I see suspicion 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 but I dont know why
Yeah it's a shame, I know
But it all shakes out real slow
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.
And I know the signal of a straying heart,
And I know the stirrings of a double cross,
And I see suspicion 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
And I see suspicion arise
It's a shame,
I know,
But it all shakes out real slow,
When all 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
I know the ceiling when it starts to burn,
I know the season when it starts to turn,
I know the patterns that the wicked learn,
I see suspicion 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 but I dont know why
Yeah it's a shame, I know
But it all shakes out real slow
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.