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Tim Atlas
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Frozen
Oh, field of ghosts, I should close All of my doors cause they're open / open Pump, pumping out through the light But my heart strings they are frozen
If it is too cold outside You're always spoiled in shining light If you bundle up your ice bound soul, you're fine You always are, you always are
Oh, build a fire, light it up With all the woods of my existence / of my existence Burn, burn your skin, wear it thin Til all of your pride burns in incense, burns in incense
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