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End of seventh day of Creation

A new kind of creature will rise...

And, like it was made of dark, death rises

A lonely Angel, whose (cold) lips

Will blow the End for all eternity

chorus:

The Angel who will harvest our lives

Shadow of men

The real renovation of Life

Eternally lurking the men

The end of a generation arrives

And the harvester is envoyed

Pale face, that, like the breeze

Will embrace the men, giving to them a new destiny

chorus:

The Angel who will harvest our lives

Shadow of men

The real renovation of Life

Forever the fear of men...

Damned truth

We have no peace in this world

'cos Death is chasing us, impartial

Quietly introducing the end

To the universe of our reckoned lives

Making of our destinies something foreseeable

Howling wind, cold, dark

A seed generated with the only intent

Of sending the End

We're scared, static, suffocated

Feeling its close presence

Death, the Persistence of Life closing the cycle

Renovation, agitation, reincarnation

Carrying our lives away

To be the abyss of unknown...