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