Your Past Should Stay Dead

The conversation inside my head
The serenade from our record player
Plays nothing but Styles
Two ghosts, our kisses, I'm under your spell
Through your thoughts, I'm swimming
Through your kiss, I'm drowning
Through your body, I'm dreaming
Through your soul, I'm lost
Close to the fire we belong
We'll never be afraid to get burned
Your soul feels like home
And now I'm homesick
Two lost souls deep down the ocean
Dive, we find a place to build our house
Our dream house
But we couldn't even touch
The house. Our home