The music stopped And I found myself without a chair. The long ceaseless game of musical chairs came to an end And here I am on this cold, hard floor. They all got chairs, Hell she is sitting on his lap, But here I am all alone on this Cold, hard floor. I don’t know when Or even if the music will start again Or If I even want it to. For at first the ground was cold and hard But now it is warm and soft.
