They are Four walls painted black,
with black sheets and in the middle a vase
the vibration of death is felt in the leather
a candle a vala in the middle
the shadow is immense presence of fear
you feel the vibration that your body imposes
it seems lie they have not bought it
maybe you see the death that has work
When there is a mystery you have respect
uses his scythe looks at the reflection
the edge deflected in a violent way
terror in the mind bloody dilemma
Holds an image of a lot of presence
and some present prefer their austerity
continue with the doubt and have not bought
the press says that he is only a sicarioo
Bloody rituals when we wash it
already save my boss that I do the job
I'm still tortured
when the lady inspires me to kill them
When I walk I push the road
I never mistrust I carry it with me
Subject wing death of the right arm
we cross scythes for 'trozar pescuesos
when the enemy does not have reinforcements
only my pretension fills him with fear
I suceed my room to consult it
and with their advice I make a killing
They already saw the candle that has not been shown
I keep the dark for the enemy
I attack strategies of some opposites
I defend that virus of the wisest man
some lieutenants I checked them
that the holy death has its legacy
I am one of them who is still at his side
I always obey him and I still respect him
Bloody rituals when we wash it
already save my boss that I do the job
I'm still tortured
when the lady inspires me to kill you!
Only among all we can make this a better place :)