Today there is a wolf hunt on,
to rid the forests of Winnipeg,
silence the voice in church graveyard,
this could be the last day of your war.
You are free as the wind that
howls amongst the graves,
that haunts this town, makes
men shiver, but a child hurt not.
Excitement of the hounds fills
the air, nowhere to turn again,
this cold snow thirsts for blood,
the last joke played out.
A dark comedy, and we laugh,
like wolves, our teeth are showing,
the blood-filled eyes of our enemies,
men in the dark surrounding this pit.
Like ticking of a church clock,
gunshots fill the air, and he falls,
is there nothing more but death,
you hunger for?
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