| Well I know the trouble when the trouble starts.
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| I know the signals of a straying heart.
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| I know the stirrings of a double-cross.
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| I see suspicions arise around you.
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| I know the chatter as it starts to creep.
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| I know the walls as they ring and repeat.
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| I know the secrets they were meant to keep.
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| I see suspicions arise.
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| It’s a shame, I know, but it all shakes out real slow
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| When the follies of your weekend hang like smoke onto your clothes.
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| And the shame of it grows when you whisper it nice and low.
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| But all the walls have ears my darling, and all bad things get known.
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| And I know about you. |
| I know about you.
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| I know the ceiling when it starts to burn.
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| I know the season when it starts to turn.
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| And I know that the patterns that the wicked learn.
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| And I see suspicions arise around you.
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| I know the curtain and the way it falls.
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| I know the burden and the pain it draws.
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| I know you’re sorry for something,
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| But I don’t know why.
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| 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 (whisper it nice and
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| 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 about you.
|
| 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 (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 about you).
|
| I know about you (I know about you). |
| I know about you. |