Apocalypse

Apocalypse



The horsemen ride tonight, my friend, for pounds of flesh and salt.
You best be on your way, good friend, this blood is not your fault.

The blade of judgement’s here, poor friend, I will not be the last.
The light is in the sky, sad friend, escape ‘fore dark is cast.

Their arrows do fly straight, true friend. Death comes from these beasts.
Don’t let it be your end, dear friend, now leave me here in – ugh!

Before you go, I’ll say to you, beware the yellow shield.
Don’t cross the roads, drink only rum, and to the rivers, yield.

Beware the black, beware the sword. Beware the hounds of lore.
When the raven crows three times, answer not your door.

Lockley’s safe, but you’re not.
Out of sight. Don’t get caught.

Run away. Go free.
Goodbye, God speed.