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