Read the odds of this song
Walk colder home, walk cold
My press face on the ice lead
A time is heaven when you call
Painted lipstick on it
Walk the truth up to meBorder like all the others
Just one of my sweaters
Made of something betterSo throw a ball up into space
Hold the phone up to its face
Leave it outside in the rain
A tired walk by it's head
Never speak of me again
