(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抮e gone, there抯 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抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love;

Empty rooms without your love.

Why can抰 we seem to get it on?

(Why can抰 we seem to get it on)



Words remain unspoken (words...);

Thoughts cannot be heard

(Thoughts...cannot be heard).

Love抯 just a token

Without some spoken word.

When your gone, there抯 a drought of love.



When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love;

Empty rooms without your love.

Why can抰 we seem to get it on?

(Why can抰 we seem to get it on)



Rooms that you will live in 

Not a part of me.

(They抣l never see...)

Rooms that you抣l make love in;

Rooms I抳e never seen.

When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love...

When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love...