| The wind is cold where | |
| I live, The blizzard is my home, | |
| Snow and ice and loaded dice, the | |
| Wizard lives alone, | |
| The wind is cold where | |
| I live, white and cold, and clean, | |
| White and cold and bought and sold and heartbreak in between, | |
| And so we shall see what is done is done, undone. | |
| Trees are stone where | |
| I live, leaves of razor steel, | |
| High and low and ice and snow, broken on the wheel, | |
| Trees are stone where | |
| I live, flowers made of glass, | |
| Cold and white and wrong and right and voices from the past. | |
| And all our yesterdays are now undone. | |
| Out of the sun | |
| Frozen and insane, | |
| I alone remain, | |
| Held in the vice of my disdain, | |
| There is now way that anyone will ever, | |
| Make me warm again. | |
| Life is death where | |
| I live, frozen grin my smile, | |
| Sun is moon and out of tune, broken strings and bile, | |
| Death is life where | |
| I live, hearts turned into stone, | |
| Frozen breath, and froze death and prisons made of bone. | |
| And so we shall see what become's become, | |
| Out of the sun. |