Cold Grip Anthem

Rain hits my face like a cold confession, the ground is shaking — „Weiter… weiter…“ echoes in my head. Mud on my boots, I feel the pressure rising, but I’m the kind of soul that moves when others stand still. The wind cuts sharp like a lame joke from the sky, bones screaming „non, non, non“ — but my heart whispers „go“. And somewhere between shivers and doubt, I feel that fire growing wild again. When my fingers turn numb and my breath feels heavy, I hear that voice inside: „Coraggio… just push.“ Cold grip on my hands — and I love that pain. Rain falls down — but I run through the flame. Freeze my bones — push harder again. Mi corazón keeps whisperin’: „Go insane… go insane.“ The trail stretches out like an endless camino, water splashing in my face — „Andiamo!“ — and I’m laughing at the storm like it’s an old friend testing me. Stones under my wheels say hola peligro, knees burning, muscles roaring mon dieu, but every fight is a poem carved into the mud. No masks here, no noise — just me, the cold, and that stubborn spark that never dies. When my legs start shaking and the doubts get loud, I growl back: „まだだ… not yet.“ Cold grip on my hands — and I love that pain. Rain falls down — but I run through the flame. Freeze my bones — push harder again. Il vento in my chest keeps callin‘ my name… „Go insane… go insane… go insane.“ Maybe you need the cold to remember warmth. Vielleicht braucht es Regen, pour voir clair encore. Quizás el dolor opens the door you keep shut. そして… you find out you’re stronger than any storm tearing at you. Cold grip on my hands — and I love that pain. Let the sky break down — I run through the flame. Freeze these bones — push harder again. Perché la tempesta in my chest keeps whisperin’… „Vai… continua… go insane.“ „Go insane… go insane… go insane.“