| High on a snow covered mountain
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| From her throne she looks down at the clowns
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| Who think youth can be found in a fountain
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| High on the wings of her rhythm
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| She will smile at the guys who come on with their eyes
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| But she’ll never dance with them
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| And in smoke filled rooms of electric sound
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| A legend is built around the snow queen
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| You may believe you’re a winner
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| But with her you will soon bite the dust
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| And discover you’re just a beginner
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| You may not think you’re a loser, but in midair
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| You’ll be hung while you trip on your tongue
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| And it’ll only amuse her
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| In the morning haze you are frozen there
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| Caught in the icy stare of the snow queen
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| No my friend, she doesn’t want what you’re selling
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| Go my friend, there must be a place you can hide
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| And into the night you’ll fade, knowing
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| You lost the game and just how she got
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| Her name the snow queen |