[Intro – whispered, ominous] DEATH: I have ridden through the kingdoms... I have walked among the dead... WAR: And now we face our greatest battle. FAMINE: What battle? WAR: The Saturday afternoon walk-in. PESTILENCE: Gentlemen... sharpen your scissors. [Verse 1] DEATH: Four riders crossed the midnight plain, Through thunder, fire, blood, and rain. We conquered kingdoms, shook the land, Then someone placed a sign in our hand. WAR: “HORSEMEN HAIR — Cuts While You Wait!” FAMINE: Two chairs available! PESTILENCE: And the prices are great! ALL: We opened up a salon at dawn, Hung our sign and carried on. The end of days could surely wait— We've got a three o'clock appointment! [Pre-Chorus – building] DEATH: I bring the razor... WAR: I bring the blade... FAMINE: I bring the comb... PESTILENCE: I brought the lemonade. ALL: FOUR VOICES RISE AS ONE— [Chorus – huge doom metal + barbershop harmony] ALL: WE ARE THE FOUR HORSEMEN! CUTTING HAIR TONIGHT! DEATH, WAR, FAMINE, PESTILENCE— WE'LL MAKE YOUR HEAD LOOK RIGHT! DEATH: Your final appointment! WAR: Your permanent fate! FAMINE: We're running a special— PESTILENCE: BUT PLEASE DON'T BE LATE! ALL: WE ARE THE FOUR HORSEMEN! WELCOME TO OUR SHOP! WHEN WE START YOUR HAIRCUT... THERE'S NO WAY TO MAKE US STOP! [Verse 2] WAR: I specialize in military cuts. DEATH: I prefer something classic. FAMINE: I can do a trim for half the price. PESTILENCE: That's because you're terrible at math. FAMINE: What? PESTILENCE: Nothing. DEATH: The first customer sat in the chair, He asked for something short and square. I raised my blade with ancient grace— CUSTOMER: Could you maybe leave some on the sides? DEATH: ...Of course. WAR: The man survived. FAMINE: Barely. [Chorus] ALL: WE ARE THE FOUR HORSEMEN! MASTERS OF THE SHEAR! WE'VE RIDDEN THROUGH THE AGES— NOW WE'RE CUTTING HAIR! DEATH: Fade! WAR: Mohawk! FAMINE: Buzz cut! PESTILENCE: Perm! ALL: THE APOCALYPSE CAN WAIT! WE'VE GOT ANOTHER CUSTOMER! [Instrumental Doom Breakdown] [Massive guitars. Slow, crushing riff.] DEATH: Who dares enter... WAR: OUR SACRED SHOP? FAMINE: Who dares ask... PESTILENCE: FOR A DISCOUNT? ALL: NOOOOOOOOO! [Barbershop harmony, suddenly cheerful] ALL: But if you want a trim today, We'll gladly cut your hair! We'll shape your bangs and style your sides, And give you quite a flair! [Bridge] DEATH: The kingdoms may crumble! WAR: The oceans may rise! FAMINE: The stars may fall down! PESTILENCE: I've got shampoo in my eyes! ALL: Yet through the darkness we shall sing, Four voices joined together! DEATH: Your haircut— WAR: Your haircut— FAMINE: Your haircut— PESTILENCE: YOUR HAIRCUT WILL— ALL: LAST FOREVER! [Final Chorus – biggest section] ALL: WE ARE THE FOUR HORSEMEN! THE BARBERS OF THE NIGHT! WE RIDE BENEATH THE MOONLIT SKIES, AND EVERYTHING'S ALRIGHT! DEATH: Book your appointment! WAR: Don't hesitate! FAMINE: We're open till seven! PESTILENCE: Except when I disinfect! ALL: WE ARE THE FOUR HORSEMEN! THE HAIRCUT'S NEARLY DONE! DEATH: Death! WAR: War! FAMINE: Famine! PESTILENCE: Pestilence! ALL: AND WE'RE HAVING FUN! [Outro – a cappella barbershop quartet] DEATH: When the final bell is ringing... WAR: And the world has met its fate... FAMINE: When the last shampoo is empty... PESTILENCE: We'll still be taking walk-ins... ALL: WE'RE THE FOUR HORSEMEN... DEATH: Of the— WAR: APOCALYPSE! FAMINE: AND— PESTILENCE: BARBERSHOP! ALL: GOOD NIGHT! [One final gigantic doom-metal chord]
