The Mountain | James Duncan Remix

My hands make constellations
Like they're weaving spiderwebs
And I tell them each lie to tell you
While you're wide awake in bed
And as they're weaving their disasters
I am sound asleep
And you can shake me all you want my dear
You're only what you reap

But I'm still cold
Cold with the lights on
Gold with the lights on

Still cold.

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