The Wolf Hunt
11/02/2003
by Lorne Clarke copyright 2003

We welcome your comments.

A stranger staggered in - stinking of gin
Out of breath and covered in blood
He was running he said from the howlng wolves
That had chased him through the neighbourhood
Well blood and wolves were enough for us
We  locked the women and children inside
Loaded whiskey and guns in the pickup trucks
Shouting "Every wolf must die!"

The moon rode high in the windswept sky
As we gathered in the square
Every last man who could fill his hand
Had been ordered to assemble there
Though one or two of the cowardly few
Were seen peeking through the blinds
We drove on out into the murky night
As the mist began to rise

Ooooooooooo-oooooooooo

Through a night that was dark as a witch's heart
We tore through the woodland trails
We empted our guns into bushes and shrubs
As our nerve was starting to fail
Though we hadn¹t even seen a single track
We couldn't shake that sense of dread
And we swore we'd never give up the hunt
Until every wolf was dead

Since the dawn of time men have realized
That wolves are afraid of fire
So it was that we turned those woods
Into a blazing funeral pyre
Smoke rose up and obscured the moon
As it watched us from on high
Whiskey flowed and the mountains rang
With our victory cry

Ooooooooooo-oooooooooo

Fear has a strange and a bitter tang
A bit like burning hair
And the air was rife with terror that night
We could smell it everywhere
We raced back to town to celebrate
But our women and children were gone
Our homes reduced to smoking ruins
As the wind sang its awful song

The old ones know when the night wind blows
Out of winter's cold black heart
That Satan smiles on his tinder pile
Merely waiting for a spark
That darkness has a power to strip away
Our defences to his call
Oh how will we ever learn to live in peace
When we hear the wolf pack call

Ooooooooooo-oooooooooo
 

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