The cold Comes whipping,
Whipping across the land,
sending flakes dancing,
on a clear Night's air,

The Cold comes whipping,
whipping across the land,
the Fae folk dancing,
to tunes long gone.

Who hears the night owl,
as she fly's about her land,
hunting mice,
on a moonless night,

The Cold comes whipping,
whipping across the land,
And the ice queen dances,
her pale blue skin moon kissed,