(John Phillips) 
Rooms that we have lived in,
The things that they have seen;
Rooms that you shared with me,
And the rooms in between...
When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love.
Mornings we would wake up
Just to taste our love again,
Afraid of some break-up
Before the day could end.
When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love;
Empty rooms without your love.
Why can抰 we seem to get it on?
(Why can抰 we seem to get it on)
Words remain unspoken (words...);
Thoughts cannot be heard
(Thoughts...cannot be heard).
Love抯 just a token
Without some spoken word.
When your gone, there抯 a drought of love.
When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love;
Empty rooms without your love.
Why can抰 we seem to get it on?
(Why can抰 we seem to get it on)
Rooms that you will live in 
Not a part of me.
(They抣l never see...)
Rooms that you抣l make love in;
Rooms I抳e never seen.
When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love...
When you抮e gone, there抯 a drought of love...