Frozen - Tim Atlas

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