歌词
Some days I feel trapped
In these walls of wood
Paint, plaster, and lath
How I wish I could
Find myself a match
Wouldn't it feel good
To leave a pile of ash where these walls stood?
High-tide tempest-tossed
Maybe we might drown
Babe it wouldn't cost
Much to leave this town
Go get ourselves lost
Leave nothing to be found
But burnt exhaust and rubber on the ground
We could turn this house into a pyre
A funeral for all our old desires
A little spark
The engine starts
The spinning of the tires
Maybe we just need a little fire
Some nights it gets cold
Sleeping in this bed
This house is getting old
The drafts they seem to get
Down into your bones
But don't get up just yet
I'm yours to hold lets build a fire instead
Let's set this frame aflame and fan it higher
The mattress springs will sing our quiet choir
We could turn these sheets to burn
The smoke a rising spire
Maybe we just need a little fire
Maybe we just need a little fire
Maybe we just need a little...