Out Of The Sun

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, [unverified] and cold and cleanWhite and cold and bought and sold and heartbreak in between
And so we shall see what is done and done and done
Trees are stone where I live, leaves of razor steelHigh 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 sunFrozen and insane, I alone remain held in the vice of my disdain
There is now way that anyone will ever, make me warm again