The Harvest

It's coming in the night and it's mantle
Waiting the head's collector basket
Stupid and helpless, life sparkles
Cursing the warrior's bloody banquet

His head facing down and sword up high
The face scars showing his killings
Bloody hands and horse with no eyes
Walking over the terrain blood fillings

He's spelling aloud his curses
Trying to remember, the one he was

Making his way an endless night dar-dream paces
Searching for a viictim to put on his claws

Quick the head hunter's coming
Said that virgin in a hurry
But it doesn't matter any more
Now that her eyes are in a blurry

And every year since mankind was born
This head collector appears for sure
All you have to do is get down in a pray
It's all that i can say

He shows no mercy at all