Testo di Black Death

Squeaking of rats And rain pours down To abandoned streets Where chilly wind sweeps Carrying the gruesome sound Of human bones and skulls Churchdoor hangs open Prayers are ended No salvation Rotting priest suffocated To his own blood and vomit Laying dead on altar Portrait of dead Children with their parents Putrid corpses Beside eachother In grotesque piles Flesh not yet turned to dust Deformed carcass dried Souls sucked away Before spreading wings Of blackdeaths way