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...
