The Caravan

"He still feels the black angel

Who's dragging the caravan"

They roam through an ocean of sand

Despite weakness and blazing heat of the sun

God and the sword in their hands

But slowly they loose heart

So they roam, for the power of the land

For King and God, along the brink of ruin

Only priest knows the payment

If he realizes desert

He still feels the black angel

Who's dragging the caravan

Who's dragging the caravan

Who's dragging...

the caravan through the desert!

Burnt from the red hot wind

The cities they look

Without mercy but full of violence

To bring new gods to the land

He still feels the black angel

Who's dragging the caravan

Who's dragging the caravan

Who's dragging...

the caravan through the desert!