The prophet in the hight of mountain
Lift your stick
Spokes and lightning cut the sky
Your scream ring mingle in the sound of thunder
And can be hear through the times
Like a rotten song rules for destruction and death

Your eyes reflect the future
As a magic mirror
Forming your hsed imsges of the inevitable
What the time will take turn real
And can be sense for the your body
Like a nightmare so real as the wind
That touches your face

The sound of the scream achoed in your mind
In your vision the live to be die
And river of blood passing in your front
The death be alive and carry on

Growing like a bleak symphony

The evil will waken from the shadows
The death will lay the earth
The man for the honor and power
Convert the peace in war