The cold nothing fills my ears with frost
The emptiness will leave my poor heart lost
Horror and madness overrun my mind
As an icy wind that my soul feeds and grinds

Only disturbed by the voices of sorrow
The judgements of tomorrow
The voices which are the worst to hear
My own voices who fill me with fear

Oh sweet child don’t you mind the still
Oh small sorrowing thing, try as you will
You will go mad tonight, and die out of fright
For the voices, oh the voices, they have gripped you tight.