June 26, 2008

The Guest Room (lyric)

I live in a house in the city
On a street that turns green in the spring
With the man who calls me his woman
And the woman that he thinks I am.

We've got plants on all of the windows
Our living room's sunny and bright
Our kitchen is painted soft yellow
And our bedroom gets plenty of light.

There are days when I feel almost happy
There are nights when it's almost enough
To see him smiling above me
As we make our Old Hollywood love.

There's a room in our house, on the top floor
Where nobody ever goes
There's no lock, but it doesn't matter
The door always stays closed.

And we call it "our little guest room"
To be used when the time is right
But, although friends often visit,
They never stay the night.

The sheets are always fresh on the bed,
There are fresh pencils on the desk.
It would be such a welcoming little room
If ever there was a guest.

There are times when I'm feeling lonely
Or when I want to be alone,
I walk up the stairs and open the door,
And pretend that I've come home.

I'll sit down at the desk and write a few words
On the notepad so thoughtfully placed.
Sometimes, they're honest, but always in pencil
So they can be safely erased.

I'll smooth out the sheets and the pillows
On the bed no one has lain upon,
And I'll wonder before I go back down
If ever a guest might come.

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