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These rooms play tricks upon you |
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Remember when they were always filled with laughter? |
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But now they're quite deserted |
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They seem to just echo voices raised in anger |
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Maybe you will see my face |
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Reflected there on the pane |
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In the window of our poor |
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Forlorn and broken home |
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Still this house is empty now |
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There's nothing |
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I can do to make you want to stay |
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So tell me how am |
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I supposed to live without you? |
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These walls were lined with pictures |
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Remember the glass we charged in celebration? |
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But now I fill my life up |
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With all that |
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I can to deaden this sensation |
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Do you recognize the face |
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Fixed in that fine silver frame |
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Were you really so unhappy then? |
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You never said |
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So this house is empty now |
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There's nothing |
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I can do to make you want to stay |
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So tell me how am |
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I supposed to live without you? |
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Oh, if I could just become forgetful |
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When night seems endless |
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Does the extinguished candle care |
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About the darkness? |
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It's funny how my memory |
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Will bring you so close then make you disappear |
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Meanwhile all our friends must choose |
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Who they will favor, who they will lose |
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Hang the garland high or close the door |
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And throw away the key |
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This house is empty now |
|
There's no one living here you have to care about |
|
This house is empty now |
|
There's nothing |
|
I can do to make you want to stay |
|
So tell me how am |
|
I supposed to live without you? |
|
This house is empty now |
|
There's no one living here you have to care about |
|
This house is empty now |
|
There's nothing |
|
I can do to make you want to stay |
|
So tell me how am |
|
I supposed to live without you? |
