and confusion Cold addiction rising up inside White lines cover the mirror All the voices screaming in my mind I wanna get out of here Cold addiction
Tradução: Día de fuego. Adicción frío.
confusion [Chorus:] Cold Addiction rising up inside, white lines cover the mirror All the voices screaming in my mind, I wanna get out of here. Cold Addiction
ain't nothin' you can see But I see something in the way of things Something to make us stumble Something get us drunk from noise and addicted to sadness
I move on, I lose my way Astray I'm trying too much to feel unchained, to burn out this sense of feeling cold And every day I seek my prey: someone to
spins on you Addicted, pathetic, predicted For a while or for a day we chase the darkness away Feel the morning (whispers) though a sunny day I promise
i am sorry you became my addiction my game, my cold affliction did you see the fire brigade speed heavy and filled with rage through the city to solve my fire
back on but ain't nothin' you can see But I see something in the way of things Something to make us stumble Something get us drunk from noise and addicted
deceive me? Nope, that's the fourth time this week Another fast brother shot dead in the street The very next day while I'm off to class My mom goes to work cold
if you ask me she should get, the girl of the year award, its the same damn song, all day long, whole world trying to break her down, Got the notes of addiction
gonna say goodbye And someone's gonna take it too well Maybe even look you in the eye Like it's a cold day in hell And you;re the last fire CHORUS
re gonna say goodbye And someone's gonna take it too well Maybe even look you in the eye Like it's a cold day in hell And you;re the last fire CHORUS
As He unfurls from aching hibernation Stormbringer drums thunder to full Dis orchestra As lighting streaks with fire Black clouds that shroud the Earth Whose cold
in a cold day in Hell I spent a month of Sundays in a cold day in Hell I spent a month of Sundays in a cold day in Hell I spent a month of Sundays in
These streets that we maneuver through, ain't nothing you familiar to Don't talk it out, noodle you, walk it out at your funeral Cold blooded, black hearted
to the graveyard Every day is a main event, some old lady limps The pushers and pimps eat shrimps It gets tiring, the sight of a gun firing They must
