The Sound Of thy Clydesdales (Black Death)

Black Death, Fog In thy face. Black death, Clydesdales hooves on the gravel road. black death They Begin to Run, a stage coach behind and with the crack of a whip. Black Death, you see the horses as you see now they are skeletons of the damned. Black Death, There driver a tall figure with a silken black cloak and a sickle that looks like was hand crafted from thy devils tongue on thy cloaked figures back. black death, inside his hood is nothing but a black pit. Black death, he found you upon thy road fog filled to tell you and you alone.

They Time as the Black Deaths Clydesdales to take you in thy coach, take thy and every others soul upon the road ahead.

                                                                       -CV