I'd like to believe
In one thing that
You'd say to me
Would you like to leave
When i try to talk it all
It turns out to be
Turn on the stove
In the little tiny room
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
In the tiny little room
That our friend calls a home
My head fills with heat
From the knife in your hand
To mine
Sand