I stop the car in the driveway, the same as before. Walk to the house through the patio, then I'm standing at the door. No one to greet me, not even say hello.I live in a world of my own. I've got six rooms of sadness. It's just a house, it's not a home.Sometimes I see you standing there, even hear your voice call. I reach out my arms to hold you. It's just a mirage coming from the walls.Everything in this house brings back memories. Seems that each room speaks your name. Even the curtains on the windows, they dry the tears from the pains.We all miss you here in this house. The walls, the ceiling, and the floor. You might not believe it, but it's true.Even the walls, the ceiling, and the floor. You might not believe it, but it's true.Even the lights don't burn bright no more.I'm honest when I say I'm slowly dying. Here in this six rooms of sadness. If I thought just for one moment you'd come back, everything would change. Back to six rooms of gladness.Thought today I'd sell the house and move away from town.Thought today I'd sell the house and move away from town.Where I'd goStill your memoriesWould hang aroundSo I'll just stay hereThere's no place to goAnd live in memoriesOf my ownI've got six roomsOf sadnessIt's just a houseIt's not a home*