Blessed Are the Dead

A great sign appeared under the stars and the moon Sound of galloping horses on clouds of lightning and thunder A dark gathering storm to scorch the earth for many generations A nuclear winter, worse than any cold or holy war A white horse on the clouds of death, a red warhorse to end all wars A pale horse and pestilence led by a black horse with famine and scales The doctrine of hatred, nation will rise against nation Wash me in blood and let me be the firstborn of the dead A crowned rider with arrows and bow A red rider with a great fiery sword Flames come from the one called death Horror and apocalypse follows Ride, won’t you four horsemen ride again? Before this kingdom is blown to kingdom come Ride, I hold fast to what I believe till I see my name in stone Blessed are the dead, that the may rest A white horse on the clouds of death, a red warhorse to end all wars A pale horse and pestilence led by a black horse with famine and scales The synagogue of Satan, nation will rise against nation Wash me in blood and let me be the firstborn of the dead A crowned rider with arrows and bow A red rider with a great fiery sword Flames come from the one called death Horror and apocalypse follows Ride, won’t you four horsemen ride again? Before this kingdom is blown to kingdom come Ride, I hold fast to what I believe till I see my name in stone Blessed are the dead