In my room way at the end of the hall I sit and I stare at the wall each day is just like the last for I live in the past In my room where every night is the same I play a dangerous game I keep pretending he's late And I sit and I wait Over there is the picture we took when he made me his bride Over there Is the chair were he held me whenever I cried Over there by the window the flowers he left... ...I'm all right In my room Way at the end of the hall I sit and I stare at the wall hating how lonely I've grown all alone in my room...