Room at the top of the stairs

She lives all alone
on a dark and windy street
in a room at the top of the stairs.

She smokes cigarettes
and stares at the wall
not knowing that my heart lives there.

In the cool of the night
She takes me inside
And helps soothe my troubles and pain

She’s warm and she’s sweet
Her kisses leave me weep
I love it when she touches my face

She talks about the past
The sorrow and regret
She cries about the grey in her hair

I love her so much
But she just won’t believe
Any man alive could ever care

I wish I’d been there
When she was a girl
Before love had treated her unfair

She’d not be so sad
She’d not live alone
In that room at the top of the stairs.

In that room at the top of the stairs.