Album: Slaughtersun (Crown Of The Triarchy)

Ride the wings of pestilence

Prologue: By the winter of 1350
It swept the land in an uncontrolled outburst
Famine, cold and pestilential misery
Surely this must be a divine damnation
Punishment from below
Be it devil or demon that reaps this cursed nation
No one of us deserves suffering thus
Oh lord, what have we done
Oh God, have you forsaken us?
I ride the night air
On pestilential wings
I am the nightmare
That slays your kit and kin
I ride your bed at night
An incubus so vile
My work is seen throughout
The smoke of funeral pyres
Black rats do my work
Punishment begins
Cover your face, everyone has heard
Here is payment for your sins
This epoch you won't forget
You're burning from inside
In the final throes of horrid death
The proudest men forget their pride
They cry in pain immense
Praying to be spared
But you god seems not to care
Mothers, daugters, fathers, sons
All are pray alike
Twitching in rotten bowel runs
I crave a heavy toll
The deadringers sound the bell
For all of you who fell
In reap the field in rage
You scream in mindless fear
When gripped in my embrace
I purify, you putrefy, the end I provide
For your blasphemy, I bring you
disease, a funeral feast
I take the helm and steer you into, a
hellish domain
You fall in the streets, sucumb in
your sheets, diabolic disease
And you don't know why
Why you children die
And you won't know
On wings of death I ride
Now summer has come over
the city
Midday heat is low
The surviving few bring out their dead
A neverending flow...
I am the death, upon your black
breath, I am black death
I am the reason, that children lie
crying, watching their parents dying
And I am formless, always
relentless, something you cannot see
And I am evil, I am disaster, I am
catastrophe
By the end of 1352, two thirds are gone
A horrible tale of pestilence and
plague, darkness and woe
Now I subside, slowly die out,
yet I have won
But I will return, in futures to come,
in different forms