City of Cold

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 fucking 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 fucking 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 fucking

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.