High trade,high trade,I'm coming back from hell.
Son I hope that you are dying inside, 'cause I want to burn the coldest iceberg in me, you are my hardest incision, but HE was flying over me again.
You son my delusion... You wicked illusion.
Grey,the sky is grey, the fog is still embracing me,the world is dead, darkness is falling again... Embrace me, collide with me, in this hate trade.
High trade, high trade, I'm coming back from hell.
Son I hope that you are dying inside, 'cause I want to burn the coldest iceberg in me, you are my hardest incision, but HE was flying over me again.
High trade, high trade...
High trade, high trade...I'm coming back.
High trade, high trade...Incoming blackout.
High trade, high trade
