Welcome to the land of icelandia,
Where Queens hold up their shields,
and the wind hits your face with a chill,
Can't quite get warm here, can you?
The ice queen straightens her crown,
a warmth of shame on her cheeks,
from when she let her shield down,
strangers are no longer welcome here.
Why's this place like the land of the blue?
Where you can't find suitors
to properly court you?
What good is an empty court?
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