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Prieto-Pockriss-Vance |
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In my room, way at the end of the hall |
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I sit and stare at the wall |
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Thinking how lonesome I've grown, all alone |
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In my room |
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In my room, where very night is the same |
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I play a dangerous game |
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I keep pretending she's late |
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So I sit, and I wait |
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Over there is the picture we took when I made her my bride |
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Over there is the chair where I held whenever she cried |
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Over there by the window, the flowers she left - have all died |
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In my room, way at the end of the hall |
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I sit and stare at the wall |
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Thinking how lonely I've grown, all alone |
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In my room |
