The room nobody lives in is up the stairs and four doors down the hall And no one ever goes there Excepts for linens when the family comes to call The room nobody lives in is always empty but immaculately clean And all is softly silent, except for buzzings of the flies between the screens But there's a feeling even breathing in the air Like there's someone, when there's no one even there
And I'm hearing the cheers for the heroes of scenes going down in this room for so many years But now nobody goes there for forty years or so this room has been alone And starving for a moment, completely human and completely all her own The room nobody lives in is up the stairs And four doors down the hall