Cold, I feel cold, I am cold, I become it, till I end
Freedom, what is freedom? In a world of fallen heroes
Where ice adorn their last stand
Where all there is, is cold
Deaf, deafening cry, I want to be deaf, to not notice the lie
Of spirits, of souls, of fellow men, who travel the winter now old
To find a home, their home, any home
Where it isn’t cold
No words, no, none can describe the touch of the beyond
Not this, not now, not here, where I hold myself, my soul
As ice makes our new name, our new home
Here, where there is cold
In a world where eyes can’t see
