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Why doth the silvered iron horse, ride upon the cloud?
Beneath the waking city, that lies, serene and unaware
That doom rides upon those silvered wings
And those for whom the bell will toll, know not
The flying beast, releases its burden
A dark parody of forgiveness,
And that mock sin plummets down, almost whispering
I am become death, the shatterer of worlds
Its one time host, soars to the heavens, thankful of its release
But the Death falls down to those, for whom the bell tolls
As if the souls of the damned were being released
A mighty flash of unholy power
A flash, yet consuming light
A maker, yet consuming life
A releaser, yet damning souls
A raging fire of merciless wrath, burning for an instant
Charring, for eternity
Destructiveness rages on that city
Roasting, baking, frying
Blistering, then picking the scabs
Burning souls into rock
Torturing a whole populace
Killing without mercy
Then the marking of those for damnation
Poisoning their blood, and their unborn children's heritage
It is they for whom the bell tolls
Death has become, and shattered their world
Become, and judged, for there are living, and there are dead
And the bell has tolled
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