Flights of black horsemen soar over churches
Pursued by an army of birds in the rain
None of them can see the clouds
The polished wings don't care
Animal waves through the hazy dreams full of pain
Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground
It all turns around in the end, the end, the end
The voices sound deadly, sometimes I hear
Echoes of empires spread throughout the sky
Wings wetted down, stumbling on the ground
It all turns around in the end, the end, the end
Flights of black horsemen soar over churches
Pursued by an army of birds in the rain
Wings wetted down, it all turns around
It all turns around in the end, the end, the end