Mare

In the shadows it's crawling
towards the pale light,
in the moonlight it twists and turns.

When the darkness is freezing
from the blood of the moon,
and the howling is bleeding your name.

It's cold...

It's riding, it's riding,
the devil in red.
It's crawling, it's crawling,
a devilish triumph under moon.
It's riding, it's riding,
the darkness prevails.
It's freezing, it's freezing,
in the blood of the moon.

From the cold winds of the moon
it's spreading like rats,
In the cold light it turns into red.

In the shadows it's crawling
towards the pale light,
in the moonlight it twists and turns.