Dark Gray (Harry Styles)

I've seen this house a million times but for some reason, tonight with the all the lights on in this darkness, it seems like more than just a house. It seems like a story. One of those old books that you would find in an old library, with the vintage spines and the yellowing pages. It looks like it's hundreds of years old and as if it's been held but a countless number of hands. But in those tattered, decaying pages, there is a sort of beauty to it. Maybe that's why I find myself walking towards the front door.