In Great Britain he is the one and only vicious viceroy of frost
He demands his will that every wide and open water glazes
So many now will show such a fragile and bitterly cold crust
And he orders the colour to vanish from your icy frozen faces
Creating a white world, for conquering all lively colours he must
Even though I am not one of these horrid anarchists I have to say
And I apologize beforehand for my hard and cold point of view
But now I am compelled to address my fellow countrymen today
To declaim an important message: away with his icy monarchy