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In a building I pass by, in Window Number Five
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There's a little girl looking down at me.
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Her Mom was never married so the baby that she
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carried
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doesn't have a last name you see.
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Her Mama calls her Joan nobody's ever known
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any other name to call her by
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Her Mama's gone all night on the streets till
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daylight
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but there's a light on in Window Number Five
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In Window Number Five
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there's a picture of an angel,
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she doesn't seem to know
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that her life is just a tangle.
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I can't give her my name
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and I feel so ashamed,
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you see I've already got a wife
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And a little girl at home
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just like the one alone
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that's crying in Window Number Five.