Feb 7, 1975
Yes the room is still in order with the windows dressed in lace
And the bed is in the corner but it’s cold and gone to waste
The stereo’s playing music but the words are in bad taste
And everywhere I care to look your love has left its trace
From poetry and story books to lines upon my face
Its memory builds from empty air and breeds in every space
The room now seems so empty or has it always been this way?
At the time it always seems so real but in the end it's hard to say
Your tears left on the pillow have dried and left a stain
As if the bed is saying where you will not lay again
Your picture has been broken by some fool in his rage
The glass is cracked and shattered but the picture's still the same
It lays there now so boldy with a smile still on its face
Staring up so openly that I can't turn away
The windows too are waiting for you to gently close the drapes
And the dust has falling everywhere like a dry unyielding rain
And in sadness now I must leave this room where sorrows has its reign
And move into another world where death has no domain
James H. Webb
Jul 13, 2014
Jul 13, 2014 at 12:17 AM UTC
Feb 7, 1975
Yes the room is still in order with the windows dressed in lace
And the bed is in the corner but it’s cold and gone to waste
The stereo’s playing music but the words are in bad taste
And everywhere I care to look your love has left its trace
From poetry and story books to lines upon my face
Its memory builds from empty air and breeds in every space
The room now seems so empty or has it always been this way?
At the time it always seems so real but in the end it's hard to say
Your tears left on the pillow have dried and left a stain
As if the bed is saying where you will not lay again
Your picture has been broken by some fool in his rage
The glass is cracked and shattered but the picture's still the same
It lays there now so boldy with a smile still on its face
Staring up so openly that I can't turn away
The windows too are waiting for you to gently close the drapes
And the dust has falling everywhere like a dry unyielding rain
And in sadness now I must leave this room where sorrows has its reign
And move into another world where death has no domain
James H. Webb
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