White death (Trude) Video (MV)

In the heart of ban Bansko a legend is told
For fly fisherman Kiril Razakov
And his fly white death they call it a sight to behold
In the river it dances shimmering and bold
Anglers from afar they come to seek
For the white death's magic so mystique
With rods in hand and hearts on fire
They cast their lines reaching higher and higher
Through the misty mountains the river flows
Where the white death beckons it never slows
A symphony of grace in the air it glows
As the anglers chase after their passion grows
Through the misty mountains, the river flows
Where the white death beckons it never slows
A symphony of grace in the air it glows
As the anglers chase after their passion grows
In the twilight hours the white death shines
A prize so coveted in their anguished minds
They feel its power their hearts entwined
With the symphonic grace they're truly aligned
So listen to the tale, of the legend so rare
The white death in Bansko beyond compare
A symphonic metal song in the crisp mountain air
For those who seek glory it will always be there
Through the misty mountains the river flows
Where the white death beckons it never slows
A symphony of grace in the air it glows
As the anglers chase after their passion grows
So listen to the tale of the legend so rare
The white death in Bansko beyond compare
A symphonic metal song in the crisp mountain air
For those who seek glory it will always be there