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This is the place where she lay her head |
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When she went to bed at night |
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And this is the place our children were conceived |
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Candles lit the room brightly at night |
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And this is the place where she cut her wrists |
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That odd and fateful night |
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And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
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And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
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This is the place where we used to live |
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I paid for it with love and blood |
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And these are the boxes that she kept on the shelf |
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Filled with her poetry and stuff |
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And this is the room where she took the razor |
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And cut her wrists that strange and fateful night |
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And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
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And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
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I never would have started if i'd known |
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That it's end this way |
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But funny thing, i'm not at all sad |
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That it stopped this way |
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This is the place where she lay her head |
|
When she went to bed at night |
|
And this is the place our children were conceived |
|
Candles lit the room brightly at night |
|
And this is the place where she cut her wrists |
|
That odd and fateful night |
|
And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
|
And i said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feeling |
