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Dawn - Ride The Wings Of Pestilence lyrics
Prologue: By the winter of 1350
 It swept the land in an uncontrolled
 outburst
 Famine, cold and pestilential misery
 Surely this must be a divine damnation
 Punishment from below
 Be it devil or demon that reaps this
 cursed nation
 No one of us deserves suffering thus
 Oh lord, what have we done
 Oh God, have you forsaken us?
 I ride the night air
 On pestilential wings
 I am the nightmare
 That slays your kith and kin
 I ride your bed at night
 An incubus so vile
 My work is seen throughout
 The smoke of funeral pyres
 Black rats do my work
 Punishment begins
 Cover your face, everyone has heard
 Here is payment for your sins
 This epoch you won't forget
 You're burning from inside
 In the final throes of horrid death
 The proudest men forget their pride
 They cry in pain immense
 Praying to be spared
 But your god seems not to care
 Mothers, daughters, fathers, sons
 All are prey alike
 Twitching in rotten bowel runs
 I crave a heavy toll
 The deadringers sound the bell
 For all of you who fell
 I reap the field in rage
 You scream in mindless fear
 When gripped in my embraceDawn - Ride The Wings Of Pestilence - http://motolyrics.com/dawn/ride-the-wings-of-pestilence-lyrics.html
 I purify, you putrefy, the end I provide
 For your blasphemy, I bring you
 disease, a funeral feast
 I take the helm and steer you into, a
 hellish domain
 You fall in the streets, succumb in
 your sheets, diabolic disease
 And you don't know why
 Why your children die
 And you won't know why
 On winds of death I ride
 Now summer has come over
 the city
 Midday heat is low
 The surviving few bring out
 their dead
 A neverending flow...
 I am the death, upon your black
 breath, I am black death
 I am the reason, that children lie
 crying, watching their parents
 dying
 And I am formless, always
 relentless, something you
 cannot see
 And I am evil, I am disaster, I am
 catastrophe
 By the end of 1352, two thirds
 are gone
 A horrible tale of pestilence and
 plague, darkness and woe
 Now I subside, slowly die out,
 yet I have won
 But I will return, in futures to
 come, in different forms
 Philip von Segebaden
 Stockholm, '97
 Dawn Ride The Wings Of Pestilence









