Standard (EADGBE)

I'd like to believe

 In one thing that you say to me

Would you like to leave?

 When I try to talk it off

 Just turns out to be

Turn on the stove

 In the little tiny rooms that our friend calls a home

My head fills with heat

 From the knife in your hand to mine

I'd like to understand

 What you think about, why it seems so bad

It's only escape

 From everything, I know I'm weak

 I know that I'm sad

Turn on the stove

 From the little tiny rooms that our friend calls a home

My head fills with heat

 From the knife in your hand to mine

Sand