She's always ready for the worst of news

And she's hoping it may be you

She knows all the scuttlebutt about the whatnot

That she doesn't want forgot

Rumor is a wind that blows so smart

It doesn't even know who you are

She's standing there waiting at the top of the stairs

With her eyes fixed on you like glue

"Where are you going now? where you been?

What is your latest sin?"

She's into the big time

She reads the National Enquirer

She stretches the truth with such imagination

She's more of a writer than a liar

She's always ready for the worst of news

And she's hoping it may be you

She knows all the scuttlebutt about the whatnot

That she doesn't want for a guy

Rumor is a wind that blows so smart

It doesn't even know who you are