(Verse 1) You bring me Sunday mornings, Coffee warm and windows wide. Soft light on your shoulders, I should be safe, I should be fine. But silence in your laughter Feels like thunder held too tight I need a little danger To sleep alone at night. (Pre-Chorus) You call it healing, I call it stillness, You call it love, I call it witness. Your calm is kind, your hands are clean But I miss the dark between. (Chorus) You're too quiet for the storm in me, Too gentle for the fire I breathe. I tried to fold into your peace, But I was never made to be That soft, that sure, that sweet. You're honey, I'm gasoline. We kissed, but we don't mean The same thing. (Verse 2) You play records like they matter, I break glasses just to feel. You wait for words with patience, I speak just to make things real. You hold the door, I burn the house Two different ways to deal. (Pre-Chorus) You say I’m heavy, I say you're hollow, You pray for roots, I chase what follows. You dream in white, I dream in red A storm that won’t stay in bed. (Chorus) You're too quiet for the storm in me, Too gentle for the fire I breathe. I tried to fold into your peace, But I was never made to be That soft, that sure, that sweet. You're honey, I'm gasoline. We kissed, but we don't mean The same thing. (Bridge) You deserve a sky that doesn’t fall, A heart that’s not a wrecking ball. And I I need the fight, I need the fall. (Final Chorus) You're too quiet for the storm in me, Too steady for the waves I keep. I wanted love, but not like this A mirror where I cease to exist. You're honey, I'm gasoline. We lit the spark But you needed calm, And I needed heat.
