A man rides alone   Down an old dusty road   He can tell that the end is at hand   But the gun at his belt   And the guitar on his back   Are shimmering in the sand   When he sleeps   It's beds of nails   And when he smiles   It seems so frail   Then came the day when the sky turned black   He drew his pick   Just like a sword   And cut the clouds   With just a chord   He rode into town to warn them of the attack   The people laughed   Right in his face   And then they all   Were just erased   Condemned to awful black oblivion   He was the last   But time has passed   The land is bleak   And time is vast   And we alone stand ready, destiny's sons      Troubadors of the apocalypse   Troubadors of the apocalypse   We had no fuckin' choice,   We had to pay   Troubadors of the apocalypse   Troubadors of the apocalypse   And lightning strikes   The headstocks when we play   Destiny cannot account for this   Destiny cannot account for this   We're doomed to walk this world   Just like a stage   Troubadors of the apocalypse   Troubadors of the apocalypse   Our story just repeats   Its final page