Next door to us
Lived an Italian man,
Spaghetti maker by trade.
He knew no one
And he worked for the son,
Who took all the money he made.

Refrain:
Back home in Naples,
Where the sun shines.
Back home in Naples,
Where the sun shines.

He spoke not a word
Of the language we use,
Talked to us in signs.
He knew no life
And he worked for the wife,
Who tended his faraway vines.

Refrain

He died last week
In his silent back room,
Retirement just about due.
And nobody cares
That he worked for those years
And the joys in his live were few.

PLEASE VISIT MY WINGS e-PRESS PAGE HERE.