The Pale Horse - Psychosomatic

The sun drops from the sky

Don’t even need a reason why

Tell me when you want to die

Blacked eyes staring hard

Finished with a deck of cards

Ready when you want to draw

Bullet punched through the head

Splattered road, paint it red

Better slinger' wins, you’re dead

Undertaker stitches you

Nails you in a coffin too

Blown away, i’ll see you soon

Death rides a pale horse

It doesn’t bother me

I’ll rule the west

Nobody’s faster than me

Another product of a sick society