| Maybe it was the way he walked
|
| Or the way he combed his hair
|
| Could have been the fancy words
|
| Or the sweet wine in the air
|
| Wasn’t the muddy shoes she’d hear
|
| Slow coming up the hall
|
| Or the faces in the pictures
|
| That were hanging on the wall
|
| Knock down the door to Reva’s house
|
| There’s something going on
|
| The dogs were barking late last night
|
| There’s something going wrong
|
| Maybe she hoped he would just go away
|
| And wake up alone in bed
|
| Maybe there was no reason
|
| For the things that he had said
|
| Knock down the door to Reva’s house
|
| There’s something going on
|
| The dogs were barking late last night
|
| There’s something going wrong
|
| Didn’t find the matches
|
| Couldn’t light them in the dark
|
| Could only hear the sound
|
| Of the breaking of her heart
|
| «Don't know where to run to
|
| I don’t know where to hide
|
| Can’t hold my head up anymore
|
| Don’t listen when I cry»
|
| Knock down the door to Reva’s house
|
| There’s something going on
|
| The dogs were barking late last night
|
| There’s something going wrong |