City Of Cold by Raised Fist
We live in the city of cold.
And even though I have to admit, that sometimes we love to spit on it.
But I would take a million bullets for it, the centre of this story.
And when I quit, to commit to the pit.
And when I've stopped to transmit, bury me in a hole under my favourite tree.
Wait a bit, say goodbye, put a f**king lid on it and split.
We live in the cit y of cold, strangely enough we're proud of it.
When at home burning the flag, when away living in a bag.
Getting mad, feeling sad.
City of cold,
On with the shoeshine.
Stepping on those f**king toes, now and forever.
The city of cold where you can't grow old.
And when I quit to commit to the pit.
And when I've stopped to transmit, bury me in a f**king hole,
Wait a bit, say goodbye and off you go.
We live in the cit y of snow.
So small and cold, five hundred years old.
No stories untold, no one is in control.
Sounds cute I know, small city with snow, one street, no flow.
And even though I mostly hate the snow,
Now and forever, it 's better then hating people I don't even know.
And even if you want your own fame to grow,
I wouldn't talk sh*t about people I don't even know.