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Soul Searching


Notes

"The King is gone. The Queen is dead. A crown of scarlet lies 'round her head. Limbs be cold, Heart be still. Lay her to rest in Winter's chill. Blessed be her mind. Blessed be her son. A child in places no river dare run. Past the land where the dead men lay, no sun rises, yet they call it day." -L.L. Tyrell


32 tracks
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