A cold state of love always leaves you holding the things you own above the things that you're wanting.
They're saying let it go, it's strange how you chased it.
It's faded kodachrome of someone in the cold.
And you, you can go.
And you, you can go.
We are haunted.
We are haunted.
We are haunted.
We are all dead.
Writer(s): Aleksa Palladino, John Devon Church
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