Verse 1

In the shadow of night, in the darkness of coming

endings,

He carries death, through many generations,

His sword made of human bones — like a shadow,

As if a whirlwind claiming a hundred lives a day.

Verse 2

On a horse that has drunk of night and day with blood,

The immortal rider, relates to all people without love.

Every step he takes smells of death,

In every breath — war and dirt.

Chorus two people:

He wears a faceless helmet and gives no one peace,

The rider of war is always searching for a new hero.

The immortal rider — ignites war everywhere,

And neither hunger nor time will find him anywhere.

Verse 3