The neighbours are brilliant, and I feel proud,
and you ought to be proud of me too.
I really wonder why people don't treat me gently.
I do a job, a real good job -
I clean my room, or something like that -
and I feel proud, and you ought to be proud of me too.
And the neighbours are brilliant, and we were having a good time,
and I'd be happy.
Then when the time comes to go home, I feel rather sad,
and I turn into the sad me.
Anyway, there sure are a lot of different me's,
just like you have a lot of different you's.
Well, I'm going outside now, outside right now,
to call all the neighbours, and that's fine too...