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I thrive in the cold, and I sleep upon a bed of icicles
The heat makes me so, uncomfortable.
Don't the fires keep you up?
"I feel you toss and turn."
You swear that the bed is cool.
But I swear that I'm getting burned.
I thrive in the cold, and I sleep upon a bed of icicles    The heat makes me so, uncomfortable.   Don't the fires keep you up?   "I feel you toss and turn."   You swear that the bed is cool.   But I swear that I'm getting burned.