Luyện nghe bài hát Ride The Wings Of Pestilence

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

Famine, cold and misery
Surely must be a divine damnation
from below
Be it devil or that reaps this
nation
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 slays your and kin
I your bed at night
An so vile
My work is throughout
The of funeral pyres
Black do my work
begins
Cover your face, everyone has
Here is payment for your
epoch you won't forget
You're burning from
In the final of horrid death
The men forget their pride
They cry in pain
Praying to be
But god seems not to care
Mothers, daughters, fathers,
All are prey
Twitching in rotten bowel
I a heavy toll
The deadringers sound the
For all of you who
I the field in rage
You scream in fear
When in my embrace
I purify, you putrefy, the end I
For blasphemy, I bring you
disease, a funeral
I take the helm and you into, a
hellish
You in the streets, succumb in
your sheets, diabolic
And you know why
Why children die
And you won't why
On winds of I ride
Now has come over
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 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 return, in futures to
come, in different
von Segebaden
Stockholm, '97