This is the place where he lay his head, When he went to bed at night, And this is the place our demons were derived Candles lit the room at night. this is the place where he cut his wrists That odd and fateful night.
This is the place where we used to live, I paid for it with love and blood, And these are the boxes that he kept on the shelf, Filled with his poetry and stuff.
this is the room where he took the razor, And cut his wrists that strange and fateful night.
I never would have started if I'd known That it'd end this way.
His body didn't last forever, It decomposed with time. But the memories I'll always treasure, Will last me until the day that I die.