In my room

we're at the end of the harm

I sit and stare at the wall

each day's just like the last

for I lived 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



All the day is the picture

we took when he made me his bride

All the day is the charm way

he held me whenever I cried

All the day by the window 

the flowers he left...



...I won't die!



In my room

we're at the end of the harm

I sit at I stare at the wall

hating how lonely I've growned

all alone 

in my room...