Shame - Alan Price

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