(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...