I once had two neighbors quiet as mice,
Living was easy. Living was nice.
One was a soldier who played the guitar
The other a bachelor who sang in the shower.
Though sometimes they’d make noise, they were very nice dudes.
They were kind and were pleasant, and not at all rude.
We'd say hi sometimes as we passed on the porch
But other than that we barely kept touch.
The soldier found love, then the bachelor moved out
And in moved a couple
And boy, are they LOUD!
One night I was sitting alone under covers
When suddenly footsteps rained down from above us.
These footsteps, they echoed across through the room,
And they never stopped — new neighbors had come.
The next day I saw him walk in with a woman —
And I thought ‘Uh-oh. Double. There’s two of them.’
Our building is almost 70 years old —
The floors are all hardwood; noise they can’t hold.
After a week I was losing my mind.
The creaking and moaning happened all the time.
I started to think I’d politely pop ‘round
'And say, “We can hear you. Mind keeping it down?'
But I chickened out — didn't want to offend.
So I've put up with it for months upon end.
They stamp and they stomp; they shout and they fuck
(They do this on weeknights until two o'clock).
They use the back staircase at 4 in the morning
To move clanking housewares in boxes — true story.
They blast shitty EDM all through the day
Which isn't as bad as when sun’s gone away.
They scroll through their DVR all evening long
They like Doctor Who (I can hear the theme song).
I’ve tried almost every trick on the book
From earplugs to Nyquil, and yet still, no luck.
I’m kept up for hours, listening to sounds —
Those heavy, loud footsteps; those noisy sex moans.
(Which — hey —good for you, but also KEEP IT DOWN)
When I hear them cleaning, it means guests are near —
The sound of a vacuum now strikes me with fear.
Cause vacuums mean parties, and they’re straightening up
I know it's the weekend, but dear god, SHUT UP.
Sometimes they leave on vacation —it's bliss.
But in a few days, we're right back to this.
I regret every day that I didn't speak up
When they moved in and asked them to shut themselves up.
But that is my fault. And I live with that. Fuck.
I realize now that it could be much worse
Some people have neighbors who are loud on purpose.
Some people have neighbors who’re drug dealers; hoarders —
Live in older buildings; live in closer quarters.
At least when we pass on the porch, they are civil
In that way I know they’re not totally evil.
The woman once came down to warn me of guests
Which was a nice thing of her to do, I guess.
And I’m sure no help — I play the accordion
(But not often — and not at four in the mornin.’)
I’m sure they’re fine people, but I cannot count
The hours of sleep I’ve lost from their loud sounds.
The thumps and the humps and mysterious pounds.
If you live upstairs, you must heed this grace:
Your downstairs neighbor def’ly hates your dumb face.
I know that we all have to make noise sometimes
We need to host friends; we need to unwind
We all need to party; we all need to fuck,
Just don't be an asshole on purpose — it sucks.
And really and truly they’ve done nothing wrong —
They have no idea I’m writing this song.
They’ve been there two years now; it seems twice as long.
So what can I say to make sense of it all?
I know they don’t mean it, but I’m still up a wall.
Just think of your neighbors! Don't be a jerk!
Others are trying to sleep and to work.
I’ll paraphrase words from the great Bill and Ted:
Be nice to each other. Now PLEASE go to bed.