The wolf he has claws, fangs and old scars His fur is covered in red Stained by the blood of the innocent slain He has no regret
There's no mercy for the weak of heart They'll be trampled down and torn apart And as ruthless as it all may seem Well the wild cares not for the weaker beings
Pursuing the scent, the stench of fear It leads him to his prey Cold and alone, forever he roams Devouring all in his way
There's no mercy for the weak of heart They'll be trampled down and torn apart And as ruthless as it all may seem Well the wild cares not for the weaker beings
And all that he knows is this life of murder To feed his hunger woes And he knows that his soul is damned For what God would love such a wicked awful man
