| Song | In the Grip of Winter |
| Artist | Autopsy |
| Album | Mental Funeral |
| 作曲 : Autopsy, Reifert | |
| Let in the white | |
| Nothing in sight | |
| Stumbling thru the snow and ice | |
| Blinded by forces you can't control | |
| Just to stay alive your only goal | |
| Caught within the grip of winter | |
| Hyperberic nightmare reigns | |
| A rotten hysteria sets in | |
| Body goes numb as your brain | |
| Legs go numb | |
| Panic strikes | |
| So you then light a fire | |
| Put your legs in the flames | |
| Hoping for a rush of pain | |
| Flesh burns right to the core | |
| Spits blood from every pore | |
| Smell your skin peel away | |
| For your life a small price to pay | |
| Running in searing pain | |
| Rational thoughts | |
| Are quickly slain | |
| Take in your last cold breath | |
| As you fall to your backsnapping death |
| zuò qǔ : Autopsy, Reifert | |
| Let in the white | |
| Nothing in sight | |
| Stumbling thru the snow and ice | |
| Blinded by forces you can' t control | |
| Just to stay alive your only goal | |
| Caught within the grip of winter | |
| Hyperberic nightmare reigns | |
| A rotten hysteria sets in | |
| Body goes numb as your brain | |
| Legs go numb | |
| Panic strikes | |
| So you then light a fire | |
| Put your legs in the flames | |
| Hoping for a rush of pain | |
| Flesh burns right to the core | |
| Spits blood from every pore | |
| Smell your skin peel away | |
| For your life a small price to pay | |
| Running in searing pain | |
| Rational thoughts | |
| Are quickly slain | |
| Take in your last cold breath | |
| As you fall to your backsnapping death |