The Room -

There’s a face in the floor that is smiling at me from the knots in the wood

ripped from the tree

Like the books on the shelf that have never been read or the words on the page

that will never be read

This room holds the story of our lives

The light from the window is dazed and confused through the blinds that are

broken and battered and bruised,

And the sofa is worn through and randomly patched on the memories of days where

we both sat,

This room holds the story of our lives.

But hey wont you stay, hey wont you stay, the lord only knows I don’t want you

to go, so please stay.

The dance of the fire is talking to me from the red glowing embers ripped from

the tree,

The paint on the walls has seen better days and the floorboards creak in

reassuring ways,

This room holds the story of our lives.

But hey wont you stay, hey wont you stay, the lord only knows I don’t want you

to go, so please stay.

The pictures on the TV are all looking at me from the brown wooden frames

ripped from the tree

The rugs on the floor are faded and frayed and the posters on the wall are all

browned with age,

This room holds the story of our lives

But hey wont you stay, hey wont you stay, the lord only knows I don’t want you

to go, so please stay.