Behold the vastness and sorrow of this empty land
 dark and Fell Rider clad in garments of shadow Is the lord of this place
 [bad word] and wonton king, priest of a black religion is he

 The hoof beat of the rider's steed pound a mournful [bad word] upon the dry cracked earth
 To this rhythm the world moves

 The sun blasts down upon the earth
 Until the soil turns to powder and blows away

 Lifeless chaos is the order for the rider has mastered the seasons
 Ancient kings Cairn now have been defiled
 The gates of strongholds long breached left swinging lifelessly in the fetid wind
 The pillars of holy places lie dead
 He rides day and night
 The relentless Hoof beats echoes