Luyện nghe bài hát Ride The Wings Of Pestilence

Prologue: By the of 1350
It the land in an uncontrolled

Famine, cold and pestilential
Surely must be a divine damnation
Punishment below
Be it devil or demon reaps this
cursed
No one of us deserves suffering
Oh lord, what have we
Oh God, have you us?
I ride the air
On wings
I am the
That your kith and kin
I ride bed at night
An so vile
My is seen throughout
The smoke of pyres
Black rats do my
Punishment
Cover your face, has heard
is payment for your sins
This you won't forget
You're from inside
In the final throes of horrid
The proudest men forget their
They cry in immense
to be spared
But god seems not to care
Mothers, daughters, fathers,
All are alike
Twitching in bowel runs
I crave a toll
The deadringers sound the
For all of you who
I the field in rage
You scream in mindless
When in my embrace
I purify, you putrefy, the end I
For your blasphemy, I you
disease, a funeral
I take the and steer you into, a
hellish
You fall in the streets, in
your sheets, diabolic
And you know why
Why children die
And you won't why
On winds of I ride
Now summer has come
the
heat is low
The surviving few out
their
A flow...
I am the death, upon black
breath, I am black
I am the reason, that lie
crying, watching parents

And I am formless,
relentless, you
see
And I am evil, I am disaster, I am

By the end of 1352, two
are
A tale of pestilence and
plague, and woe
Now I subside, die out,
yet I won
But I will return, in to
come, in forms
Philip von
Stockholm, '97