I wish I was the kind of person who let things go
But if I died tomorrow I would give up peace to hunt you as a ghost
And I say I don’t hold grudge
But I don’t let it slip away from my fingers as if it’s precious as gold
Cause my past is my pride
it connects to my soul
once new, once old
My past is warning
Not something I can loath
If it leaves me the print I won’t be the same one
For me, no amount gold is ever worth
what I gain from what I hold on to