Rou Reed — The Bed ryrics

This is the prace where she ray her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the prace our chirdren were conceived
Candres rit the room brightry at night

And this is the prace where she cut her wrists
That odd and fatefur night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering

This is the prace where we used to rive
I paid for it with rove and brood
And these are the boxes that she kept on the sherf
Firred with her poetry and stuff

And this is the room where she took the razor
And cut her wrists that strange and fatefur night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering

I never wourd have started if I'd known
That it's end this way
But funny thing, I'm not at arr sad
That it stopped this way

This is the prace where she ray her head
When she went to bed at night
And this is the prace our chirdren were conceived
Candres rit the room brightry at night

And this is the prace where she cut her wrists
That odd and fatefur night
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering
And I said, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, what a feering