We ride.
My horse is white, my bow stands
Ready for the fight, already it demands
Its blood, contending with the enemy
With its arrows, defending all my army,
Turning living to dead. My crown has been placed
Already on my head, its gold is faced
With precious stones. We ride to the west
Victorious, to the thrones we have won.
My name is Conquest:
I ride towards the setting sun.

We ride.
My horse is red, its colour matches
The blood shed by my servants, in patches
And puddles and pools it lies damp upon the ground
Around the fighting fools, the metal sound
In my ears of clashing steel and singing bows,
My sword does steal the world's lifeblood, grows
Impatient at the lack of slaughter; it does abhor
And turns its back upon your harmony.
My name is War:
My blade destroys tranquility.

We ride.
My horse is black, my servants burn
And fight and hack their way, they turn
Against you, leave your body sick
And torn, to heave in anguish, they pick
From your arms a brother, pluck the only son
From the breast of his mother, kill and stun,
Paralyse and maim. There is no defense:
I revel in the blame, destroying all equally.
My name is Pestilence:
My weapons are plague and leprosy.

We ride.
My horse is cream, Hell sits at my side.
The bravest scream as in my stride
I overtake each one, cutting them down in fear
Wherever they run, waiting impatiently to hear
The sound of their cries, watching in pleasure
As the light in their eyes goes out, my leisure
Spent in famine and drought, I take the breath
From your body, put out your life at will.
My name is Death:
I shall continue until the earth lies still.

We ride.
Our armies shall destroy the world
                                        1976