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