| The winter queen looks up and sighs: | |
| I wish that I controlled the skies | |
| For up above is where to stand | |
| To rule those who walk on the land | |
| The summer queen flies by and sees | |
| Her realm of butterflies and bees | |
| And said, I wish I lived below | |
| Instead I sail where breezes blow | |
| And the rain came down | |
| It tried to seep | |
| Into the ground | |
| But water deep | |
| Pecked and poked | |
| And sodden soil | |
| Already soaked | |
| Began to roil | |
| The prince of silence walks below | |
| Inside a cave of ice and snow | |
| He says "I wonder why?" but words | |
| Are locked in glaciers, never heard | |
| The prince of music on guitar | |
| Neglects to play a single bar | |
| But music trapped inside his head | |
| Resounds and fills the space instead | |
| The winter queen looks up and sighs... |
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