No paler a horse sprang spun from the loom Of the ages of ruin that rang hoarser our doom Than the clarets of seraphs that clanged seven seals And sang of our hearse in the plain of Jezreel
No paler a horse shalt trod under hoof, the vainglorious pride of Adam's bloodline The Impaler Retrorse shod this blest beast to bear, even into the Palace Divine And twined in its mane the shrouds of countless dead kingdoms decayed Like unspoken promises of the plague to end all of plagues
Like the grandest of spokes perched upon Misfortune's great wheel Spinning ever ghostly towards Megiddo in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel
Like an equine catafalque clad in the sombre pall of Sheol Marching towards Megiddo in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel
No paler a horse bore whores more regaled With the plentiful splendour of Babylon's grail Awaiting a horseman, cloaked to conceal A scythe meant for Megiddo, in the plain of Jezreel
No paler a horse graced the great battlefield Nor grazed the meat off the cattle, revealed As lifeless men in vain postures, kneeled At the crossroads of Megiddo, in the plain of Jezreel
No paler a horse snaked the Harvester past Heaven's dread zeal Nor drank the blood off the noblemen, by the scythe now revealed As angels bled red with their dead king, garrotted and kneeled
Above the plain of Jezreel!
No paler a horse thus fulfilled Death's great prophecy That all kingdoms must fall, whether of men or divinity Thus, Hell followed too in Empyrean halls, now forever sealed and repealed As the sun fades to black above Megiddo, in the plain of ill-fated Jezreel
No paler a horse wore sickles for shoes, so adorned As to foreshadow razors closing in on my wrists, torn and worn
And shone in its eyes the sickening light of the Scythe-bearer's steel With its shade on my inner Megiddo, Where flows, where grows, where shows –
All the pain that I feel
No paler a horse had its arrival more fiercely desired in the midst of my own dire toil Than that singular steed of the Brier of Divorce from this coarse mortal coil Grand Sire of Life's Antidote, with bared throat I ache for the Day of the True Saviours seal When this world much accursed fades to black
With that wound in my heart That just wouldn't heal…Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
