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