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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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