Cold Fever

de Last Train

When we leave, these miles behind us
We see the fire on the mountain
We see the fire, holy fire

As we run
The top's coming down
And the flamme, keeps on shining
As we crawl
All things are falling
And our shadows become silver lightning
All smokes go up
All minds go down
And it keeps on burning
When we left
These miles behind us
We saw the mountains facing each other
And now all the moutains, are gone in the fire

Oh holy fire!
Holy fire!
We saw the mountains, black as a feather
Now all the mountains, are gone in the fire
Holy fire!

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