My baby makes me proud, Lord, don't she make me proud.
She never makes a scene by hanging all over me in a crowd.
'Cause people like to talk, Lord, don't they love to talk.
But when they turn out the lights, I know she'll be leaving with me.

And when we get behind closed doors,
Then she lets her hair hang down.
And she makes me glad that I'm a man.
Oh, no-one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

My baby makes me smile, Lord, don't she make me smile.
She's never far away or too tired to say: "I want you."
She's always a lady, just like a lady should be.
But when they turn out the lights, she's still a baby to me.

'Cause when we get behind closed doors,
Then she lets her hair hang down.
And she makes me glad that I'm a man.
Oh, no-one knows what goes on behind closed doors.

Behind closed doors.