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She lives all alone |
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on a dark and windy street |
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in a room at the top of the stairs. |
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She smokes cigarettes |
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and stares at the wall |
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not knowing that my heart lives there. |
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In the cool of the night |
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She takes me inside |
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And helps soothe my troubles and pain |
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She's warm and she's sweet |
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Her kisses leave me weep |
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I love it when she touches my face |
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She talks about the past |
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The sorrow and regret |
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She cries about the grey in her hair |
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I love her so much |
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But she just won't believe |
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Any man alive could ever care |
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I wish I'd been there |
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When she was a girl |
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Before love had treated her unfair |
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She'd not be so sad |
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She'd not live alone |
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In that room at the top of the stairs. |
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In that room at the top of the stairs. |
