(John Phillips)
Rooms that we have lived in,
The things that they have seen;
Rooms that you shared with me,
And the rooms in between...
When you?e gone, there? a drought of love.
Mornings we would wake up
Just to taste our love again,
Afraid of some break-up
Before the day could end.
When you?e gone, there? a drought of love;
Empty rooms without your love.
Why can? we seem to get it on?
(Why can? we seem to get it on)
Words remain unspoken (words...);
Thoughts cannot be heard
(Thoughts...cannot be heard).
Love? just a token
Without some spoken word.
When your gone, there? a drought of love.
When you?e gone, there? a drought of love;
Empty rooms without your love.
Why can? we seem to get it on?
(Why can? we seem to get it on)
Rooms that you will live in
Not a part of me.
(They?l never see...)
Rooms that you?l make love in;
Rooms I?e never seen.
When you?e gone, there? a drought of love...
When you?e gone, there? a drought of love...
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