Hammurabi - Shelter of Blames

The water who slip on the streets
Washing the filth and the blood of defeat
This be the reason of a new war
And then will knock on the your door

Your hands soled of blood
Will attract the eyes him
You will be hunted and destroyed
The best place to ride is hell

The song will be brief
Proclamation the death
Honest men are corpses from past
Just the damned tread on this earth

The horsemen of the fire
Will strew the her anger
The last banquet on the earth
Will be to the scavenger

The horsemen named
Will see you through the flames
The hell where you ride
Is no more
The shelter of blames