| Haunted and lost — abandoned they are
|
| Down in the abyss in a kingdom so far
|
| Creatures of light — ignominious and pale
|
| Born in a wasteland and longing for the grail
|
| We’re galloping fast over mountains and plains
|
| We’re facing the evil till nothing remains
|
| We’re the seekers of truth
|
| We’re the rangers of light
|
| On white horses — under sweltering skies
|
| Where the cold winds blow in the hot desert sun
|
| Where the grimace of the moon will glaring come undone
|
| Where ghouls in shrouds crucify the living dead
|
| Call to arms — the target is ahead
|
| We’re riding through ghost town
|
| We’re hunting the dead
|
| On the verge of our lunacy
|
| The trails of the mad
|
| We’re conquering ghost town
|
| We’re guarding the weak
|
| At the gates of insanity
|
| We’re riding to free
|
| Dressed in dark shadows
|
| Surrounded by ghouls
|
| Men — gun down the bastards
|
| Let’s see who’s bulletproofed
|
| Their foul bodies shake as we unleash our rage
|
| This play will be over when they’ve all left the stage
|
| You wanna see more of flesh, blood and gore
|
| Then it’s up to you — to shout for encore
|
| Where the cold winds blow in the hot desert sun
|
| Where the grimace of the moon will glaring come undone
|
| Where ghouls in shrouds crucify the living dead
|
| Call to arms — the target is ahead
|
| We’re riding through ghost town
|
| We’re hunting the dead
|
| On the verge of our lunacy
|
| The trails of the mad
|
| We’re conquering ghost town
|
| We’re guarding the weak
|
| At the gates of insanity
|
| We’re riding to free |