Through the Fog and Filthy Air

Through the fog and filthy air— Which hurts my eyes just to see, I come with something to declare… I bring no one but myself; still, beware! Beware of what may come after me Through the fog and filthy air. I come with bad news laid bare, I come with lost souls—mad and hungry; I come with something to declare: Build high the wall, let them flare; Lest all of them break in, running free! Through the fog and filthy air. Believe me what awaits out there: They are not what they used to be, I come with something to declare. And, oh, I see them rushing from there— Legion of hell which no one can compare! Through the fog and filthy air I come with something to declare!