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