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 this must be a divine
Punishment below
Be it devil or demon reaps this
cursed
No one of us deserves suffering
Oh lord, what we done
Oh God, have you us?
I ride the air
On pestilential
I am the
That slays kith and kin
I ride your bed at
An so vile
My is seen throughout
The smoke of funeral
rats do my work
Punishment
your face, everyone has heard
Here is for your sins
This epoch you forget
You're from inside
In the final throes of horrid
The men forget their pride
They cry in pain
Praying to be
But your god seems not to
Mothers, daughters, fathers,
All are alike
Twitching in bowel runs
I a heavy toll
The deadringers the bell
For all of you who
I reap the field in
You scream in mindless
When in my embrace
I purify, you putrefy, the end I
For blasphemy, I bring you
disease, a funeral
I the helm and steer you into, a
hellish
You fall in the streets, in
sheets, diabolic disease
And you know why
Why children die
And you won't why
On winds of death I
Now summer has over
the
Midday is low
The surviving few out
dead
A flow...
I am the death, upon black
breath, I am black
I am the reason, that lie
crying, their 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 different
Philip von
Stockholm, '97