When you are a small trombone you think about the world outside your home.
And the burning of the trumpet smells like white smoke and elephants fire.
My ice princess dances on the ground when she walks. 
Ooh my ice princes once was made of wood and water.

M m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m m 

When you're on the riverside where the air is cool and the moon is bright,
carving trees with a pocket-knife. When we're dead, they're still alive.
And I'm sitting in a car driving downtown, 
I'm watching the lights go up and down. 
Turning left to the old brown school, wipe out the blackboard-drawing, fool.

Why is my heart so cold. 
Why is my heart so cold
You say I'll never be the same.
I will wait 20 years, 20 years, 20 years.

When you are a small trombone all the world is inside your home. 
And the ice princess dances on the ground when she walks.

Why is my heart so cold.
Why is my heart so cold