4 acessos
I'm going fast down the white slope,
I can't see where I am
The slap of wind and snow on my face
And their agents are chasing me :
I shot their president...
There's a price on my head, we're on a race !
Descending fast, the pain exhausts,
no longer feel my legs
The noise of their snowmobiles getting near
I must go on 'cos they have guns,
they want to shoot me down
I must be careful, I can't see the ground clear
(chorus)
Through the white hell I made my way
Chased by their agents, running away
From my death !
(Solos : M / C)
And suddenly in front of me, I see a big fissure
I'm afraid I can't pass, it seems too wide
Anyway I don't have the choice,
it is this or be killed
I head straight, jump and land on the other side
Now they are blocked, but the way's clear
and they are shooting at me
Until now I have escaped them quite well
I jump over a big crag, and I go on faster
I don't want to die in this white hell