Famine rides on locust wings to the open wounds ridden with disease
Lightning falls at summer's end
Listless faces, downcast eyes, sir within the house of five
The shape of omens in the sky
Seeking alms for the leper, alms for the sick and feeble
Living corpse, withered touch
Lamentations and ashes, in the wake of deafening silence
The reaper's scythe rises and falls again and again and again
End of days, the horseman comes with scales in hand
Leading the rats through the crowded streets
One by one, all in time, falling in line
To the dance off the dead, we all fall down
All join hands at the mass of the open sores
A congregation of the unclean spirit calling on the Lord
Water into wine and children into swine
Welcome fallen angels with open arms
The first will be last and the last will be first
Blessed are the vermin for they shall inherit the earth
End of days, the horseman comes with scales in hand
Leading the rats through the crowded streets
One by one, all in time, falling in line
To the dance off the dead, we all fall down