Seven knights ride out to planes
Out of castles made of blades
They ride out at dawn in sunlight
From the towerbearing walls
From the corners midst the mountains
To the sleeping town of old
Their spears ****** the skyroof
Their flags, they clap like thunder
Their swords strike at their hips
Their steeds rip air asunder
One is playing the guitar
Like a brook he's spilling sounds
One's a boy that's dressed a shepard
Shepard's staff's his fragile weapon
Chosen cautiously to suit
His humble role - to play a flute
One bears trumpets full of noise
Each as heavy as a rock
Though he carries all of those
On his narrow skinny back
One is striking at his chest
With both hands to prove the others
That of them he fits the bets
For the role of battle drummy
One of them is singing bare:
"Nothing holy heard a prayer"
Other wields a violin
Disharmonic chords cross strings
And the tension and the fever
The discord, the primal fear -
His inhuman melody
Spreads around and makes birds flee
From the rare darkbarked trees
One is riding solemnly
When they meet before the town
When they reach the sleeping town
Then they'll wake the sleeping town
Then they'll show the sleeping town
That before it lies a desert
That has eyes that you can never
Count. "Can you keep sleeping now?"
Silent Knight will ask the town.