Where I'm from: Bonnie in the basement

When things go sour, some people cut or dye their hair. Other people scrounge their rough drafts to find something that fits the occasion. Assume this is fictional, as none of the people in it exist anymore.

My bonnie lies over the ocean
My bonnie lies over the sea
My bonnie lies over the ocean
My bonnie lies over the sea
My bonnie lies over the ocean
Please bring my bonnie to me...

I'm from hot chocolate for a quarter, the ping pong table folded up in the corner,
glasses left on top of the fridge all summer,
and everyone but you walking in.

Down a flight of stairs, turn left.
There's a place right outside for the smokers, and a place right inside with a plaque:
The Shaque.

Prayers stain tears in my eyes, I laugh to remember my ping pong morning it seems so long ago.
Today when I visited my rocks, there were eight.

It was raining and my umbrella is missing, and for a while, so were you.

But you found me and then I got lost. Will it be like sending in the clowns?

She will be loved, she will be loved.
Please bring my bonnie to me.