The Rider on The Black Horse

The rider on the black horse comes, I'll be waiting for him playing my drums. He comes and devours all life, I'll be ready to look into his eyes. The rider on the black horse comes, Over mountains and plains, he'll pass, going over the green, green grass. I'll be near the great Oak tree, waiting to see if he comes for me. The rider on the black horse comes, I'll be waiting for him playing my drums.