Luyện nghe bài hát Ride The Wings Of Pestilence

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

Famine, cold and misery
Surely this must be a damnation
from below
Be it devil or demon reaps this
cursed
No one of us suffering thus
Oh lord, what we done
Oh God, have you us?
I the night air
On pestilential
I am the
That your kith and kin
I your bed at night
An so vile
My work is throughout
The smoke of pyres
Black do my work
begins
Cover your face, everyone has
Here is payment for your
This epoch you forget
burning from inside
In the final throes of horrid
The proudest men forget pride
They cry in immense
to be spared
But your god not to care
Mothers, daughters, fathers,
All are prey
Twitching in rotten runs
I crave a heavy
The sound the bell
For all of you who
I reap the field in
You in mindless fear
gripped in my embrace
I purify, you putrefy, the end I
For your blasphemy, I you
disease, a funeral
I the helm and steer you into, a
domain
You in the streets, succumb in
your sheets, disease
And you know why
Why your die
And you know why
On winds of death I
Now summer has over
the
Midday is low
The few bring out
their
A flow...
I am the death, upon black
breath, I am black
I am the reason, children lie
crying, watching their

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

By the end of 1352, two
are
A horrible tale of 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