when they comes riding in the sparking thunder
Riding on the black horse,
Black cloth and a black hat to match
A gun to shot
A black long rope to wipe
Riding fiercely for soul
lost soul who are gone
long gone
And a bullet shot
A green smoke follows
And gone,not a trace to be seen
No memories to remember
No emotions to feel
Dead?No,more like disappear
Because that is what they do
Wiping all memories of souls