In my room
Way at the end of the hall
I sit and stare at the wall
Each day is just like the last
For I look in the past

In my room
Where every night is the same
I play a dangerous game
I keep pretending he's late
And I sit and I wait

Over there is the picture we took
When he made me his bride
Over there is the chair where he held me
Whenever I cried
Over there by the window the flowers he left
Have all died

In my room
Way at the end of the hall
I sit and stare at the wall
Hating our lonely I've grown
All alone, in my room.
.....
