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Ison
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Recipe
Snowflakes melt down: this heart is tired of wearing crowns.
Pierced coin from a distant land, may your void be filled with wonder.
Downstairs in this cell I'm brewing my spell. Four hundred and eighty sec. and then I'll hang it 'round my neck.
A pinch of pink salt to bring the gratitude hidden in Find more lyrics at ※ Mojim.com teardrops.
A spit of an old friend 'cause loneliness on this plane is a nonsense, a nonsense.
Four words will set my charm: a mutual frail thankful awe. Four hundred and eighty sec. and then I'll hang it 'round my neck.
oh Guardian, please take my gift and open the gate for me. Four hundred and eighty sec. and now look, it's hanging down my neck.
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