| Turn it up, gimme volume or blood
|
| Make that bass sound pound through the walls
|
| This is what we do where there’s nothing to do
|
| In the country of rain and snow
|
| Crank it up gimme volume and blood, c’mon baby shake that ass
|
| Hit it all again 'cause we never grow old
|
| This is what we do up in the cold
|
| This is what we do where we come from
|
| How we do it where we call home
|
| Take a ride on the hellway to high
|
| Where the moon shines bright and tears don’t dry
|
| Pay a visit to where silence is gold
|
| Here no one ever speaks unless spoken to
|
| Sail north — Scandinavian bound
|
| Sail north — to where only weekends count
|
| Rev it up hun, give it some gas
|
| And push the pedal right down through the floor
|
| This is what we do when the weekend get slow
|
| This is how we roll
|
| Rev it up, give it gas — gotta make that engine roar
|
| Hit it again 'cause it never gets old
|
| This is how we roll up in the north
|
| This is what we do it where we come from
|
| How we do it where we call home
|
| Take a ride on the hellway to high
|
| Where the moon shines bright and tears don’t dry
|
| Pay a visit to where silence is gold
|
| Here no one ever speaks unless spoken to
|
| Sail north — Scandinavian bound
|
| Sail north — to where only weekends count |