Walking home alone My hands are cold I don't know where i stand I don't have a plan (But I’m used to it) The fog in yr eyes The smoke in mine There’s a ghost in my head & it wants you dead (But I’m used to it)
Walking home alone My hands are cold I don't know where i stand I don't have a plan (But I’m used to it) The fog in yr eyes The smoke in mine There’s a ghost in my head & it wants you dead (But I’m used to it)