Song | City Of Cold |
Artist | Raised Fist |
Album | Veil Of Ignorance |
Download | Image LRC TXT |
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 ****ing 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 ****ing 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 ****ing 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 shit about people I don't even know. |
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 ing 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 ing 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 ing 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 shit about people I don' t even know. |
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 ing 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 ing 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 ing 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 shit about people I don' t even know. |