The water who slip on the streets Washing the filth and the blood of defeat This be the reason of a new war And then will knock on the your door Your hands soled of blood Will attract the eyes him You will be hunted and destroyed The best place to ride is hell The song will be brief Proclamation the death Honest men are corpses from past Just the damned tread on this earth The horsemen of the fire Will strew the her anger The last banquet on the earth Will be to the scavenger The horsemen named Will see you through the flames The hell where you ride Is no more The shelter of blames