In my room with
its broken door The posters on the wall of
Hitler, John and Paul I see myself
In my room there's books of Somerset
Maughan, of Irving Stone and Oscar Wilde There's
poetry of my own And I can be myself
In my room there's imitation Lautrecs' Jane
Avril is my favourite The Moulin Rouge
is next I think I'll burn them all For
they're no good at all You didn't understand
By my head There's a photograph of
you Your face seems to be sad I wonder
where you are I suppose you'll find
I wanted to share my room with you
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