Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Stolichnaya Smert , by - Koldbrann. Song from the album Vertigo, in the genre Release date: 21.01.2013
Record label: Season of Mist
Song language: English
Stolichnaya Smert |
| Crawling through the outskirts of Odessa |
| As this skirt came on to me |
| I was strung out from manual labour |
| She was a bitch with a bandolier |
| You could tell she had a thing for |
| Vodka and Destruction |
| I showed off my piece |
| And she grabbed me by the horn |
| Halfway through the bottle |
| She wanted to go for a ride |
| Flaska opp på Vold og faens Kaos |
| Things are going nowhere fast |
| Stolichnaya Smert |
| Hotwired a Chaika down by the curb |
| Pedal to the floor — ready for more |
| Give me some throttle for this craving |
| A gramme off of her tits and I am sailing |
| Militia pigs are on to us |
| Want to give some beating |
| Want to see some blood |
| Crank it up, some good old Tangorodrim |
| And send some lead the coppers way |
| Sinner’s haven Tiraspol |
| No place better to end it all |
| Snatch another bottle of Stoli |
| Wreaking havoc into the morning |
| At noon I took her down by the river |
| Pulled her under till she stopped to shiver |
| Another drifter into the stream |
| But this one will forever pester my dreams |
| Take another hit to start me up |
| Med Frådende Hunger |
| Where I am going no one can follow |
| Before I disappear |
| Out of mind, out of sight |
| Swallowed by the Transnistrian night |
| Stolichnaya Smert |
| English |
| Crawling through the outskirts of Odessa |
| As this skirt came on to me |
| I was strung out from manual labour |
| She was a bitch with a bandolier |
| You could tell she had a thing for |
| Vodka and Destruction |
| I showed off my piece |
| And she grabbed me by the horn |
| Halfway through the bottle |
| She wanted to go for a ride |
| Bottled up on Violence and fucking Chaos |
| Things are going nowhere fast |
| Stoli — Satanic spirit |
| Turn me into a beast |
| Stolichnaya Smert |
| Come on, let’s go to the death |
| Hotwired a Chaika down by the curb |
| Pedal to the floor — ready for more |
| Give me some throttle for this craving |
| A gramme off of her tits and I am sailing |
| Militia pigs are on to us |
| Want to give some beating |
| Want to see some blood |
| Crank it up, some good old Tangorodrim |
| And send some lead the coppers way |
| Stoli — fuel of the devil |
| Hammer of hell, turn me into a beast |
| Sinner’s haven Tiraspol |
| No place better to end it all |
| Snatch another bottle of Stoli |
| Wreaking havoc into the morning |
| At noon I took her down by the river |
| Pulled her under till she stopped to shiver |
| Another drifter into the stream |
| But this one will forever pester my dreams |
| Take another hit to start me up |
| With Frothing Hunger |
| Where I am going no one can follow |
| Before I disappear |
| Out of mind, out of sight |
| Swallowed by the Transnistrian night |
| Stolichnaya Smert |
| Come on, let’s go to the death |