You are preparing yourself for the great day
You have read it day after day waiting for the trumpet
Every leaf that you advance you scared again
The dreams of saint john are dreams still
The sand of the clock is scant above
His scanty grains increase your agony
Victim and victimizer to begun to trace
One can feel the smell of d**h
A strong roar from the sky
The four horsemen fall down like ravens
Sinner know they will die
The chaste and pure also for his lies
[Guitar Solo]
They are planes, throws his bombs
They are no gods, demons or angels
Neither beings of the catacombs
Meat and bone crying out revenge