What's he building in there? What the hell is he building in there? He has subscriptions to those magazines He never waves when he goes by He's hiding something from the rest of us He's all to himself I think I know why He took down the tire swing from the pepper tree He has no children of his own, you see He has no dog He has no friends And his lawn is dying And what about all those packages he sends? What's he building in there? With that hook light on the stairs What's he building in there? I'll tell you one thing, he's not building a playhouse for the children What's he building in there? Now what's that sound from underneath the door? He's pounding nails into a hardwood floor I swear to God, I heard someone moaning low I keep seeing the blue light of a TV show He has a router and a table saw And you won't believe what Mr. Sticha saw There's poison underneath the sink, of course But there's also enough formaldehyde to choke a horse What's he building in there? What the hell is he building in there? I heard he has an ex-wife In some place called Mayor's Income, Tennessee And he used to have a consulting business in Indonesia But what's he building in there? He has no friends But he gets a lot of mail I'll bet he spent a little time in jail I heard he was up on the roof last night, signaling with a flashlight And what's that tune he's always whistling? What's he building in there? What's he building in there? We have a right to know