The Midnight Riders

On hearses of steel we rattle along

Tearing through towns, slaughter’s our song

We’re blistering torches, we piss on the graves

We shatter the tombstones, glistening with rage

Oh will that one day we find rest in the ground

Rocks and earth atop bones—no sound

Scatter the salt lest we grow into trees

And haunt all that’s sacred with billowing pleas

 

 

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