"Le quatrième est un cheval blanc, la Mort le chevauche et l'Enfer le suit de près." (un bien sombre évangile)

Ce n'est plus la peine d'essayer de sauver quoique ce soit, fous que nous sommes. Ni notre corps, ni notre âme, ni même notre pénible et chétif amour. Il est un temps pour tout achever et ce temps est arrivé. Plus de paroles inutiles, de vaines prières. Assassins, voleurs, saints hommes, c'est l'heure de juger de votre pitoyable justice et de vos chemins insensés. Tout est décidé, et ce qui est décidé s'accomplit. Maintenant, et pour l'éternité.

And I heard as it were the noise of thunder
One of the four beasts saying come and see and I saw
And behold a white horse

There's a man going around taking names
And he decides who to free and who to blame
Everybody won't be treated all the same
There'll be a golden ladder reaching down
When the Man comes around

The hairs on your arm will stand up
At the terror in each sip and in each sup
Will you partake of that last offered cup?
Or disappear into the potter's ground
When the Man comes around

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling, voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks

Till Armageddon no shalam, no shalom
Then the father hen will call his chickens home
The wise man will bow down before the throne
And at His feet they'll cast their golden crowns
When the Man comes around

Whoever is unjust let him be unjust still
Whoever is righteous let him be righteous still
Whoever is filthy let him be filthy still
Listen to the words long written down
When the Man comes around

Hear the trumpets, hear the pipers
One hundred million angels singing
Multitudes are marching to the big kettledrum
Voices calling and voices crying
Some are born and some are dying
It's Alpha and Omega's kingdom come

And the whirlwind is in the thorn tree
The virgins are all trimming their wicks
The whirlwind is in the thorn tree
It's hard for thee to kick against the pricks

In measured hundred weight and penney pound
When the Man comes around.

Close (Spoken part)
And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts
And I looked and behold, a pale horse
And his name that sat on him was Death
And Hell followed with him.

Voilà l'effet de quatre heures d'écoute intensive de musique sur YouTube : on finit par écouter un truc définitif et on va se coucher Dieu sait pour combien de milliers d'années.