Every room has a view Of a different side of the ocean But nobodies got a clue In which direction to go in She sits down on the rocks Her hair blows in the wind When our eyes meet she stops And she says, "You can't save me now." Every room has a view Of a different side of my soul But I don't have a clue If together they make a whole Every room has a view Of a different side of the city But nobody has a clue If they think that blackened smoke And white gra** is pretty I sit down on the rocks And my hair blows in the wind For a moment time stops And I begin to have a view of my own