No one's at the door, no one's at the phone
No one's in the kitchen; I'm very alone
I listen when I hear the voices again
It sounds like a woman and one or two men
The hour is late and I should be in bed
But they are so loud, so I listen in stead
They turn on some tunes and are singing along
(The worst part is that it's a terrible song)
Then they are fighting each other and yell
"I hate you" and "I hate you too, go to hell!"
I'm dreaming of walking down there with an axe
to get them to shut up so I can relax
But that is illegal and so very wrong
(The fight is now over; another bad song)
Rolling my eyes, I ask with a sigh;
"Oh my dear neighbours, why don't you just die?"