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Alan Price
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Song by Alan Price
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Lyrics:
Johnny walks down the main street With a briefcase in his hand He's been working all day in a white collar job Which he was told was the promised land He kisses Mrs. Norma on the cheek And that's his little son Sam But meanwhile we know at the back of his neck That Johnny would rather be dead But it doen't bother anybody no more Life has closed the door Shame, shame, shame, shame, shame Jenny's on the switchboard holding the line For a gentleman in Bombay She doesn't have to bother listen to him 'Cause she doesn't care what he says She cleans her nails with a paperclip And watches the clouds roll by And nobody seems to understand That there's a tear in Jenny's eye But it doen't bother anybody no more Life has closed the door Shame, shame, shame, shame, shame But it doen't bother anybody no more Life has closed the door Shame, shame, shame, shame, shame Jenny's on the switchboard holding the line For a gentleman in Bombay She doesn't have to bother listen to him 'Cause she doesn't care what he says She cleans her nails with a paperclip And watches the clouds roll by And nobody seems to understand That there's a tear in Jenny's eye Jenny's on the switchboard holding the line For a gentleman in Bombay She doesn't have to bother listen to him 'Cause she doesn't care what he says And Johnny walks down the main street With a briefcase in his hand He's been working all day in a white collar job Which he was told was the promised land
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