Lobo

There's a craving that comes with the night

And I for one, am afraid of the man on the moon

He sends tempers flared and oceans high

And no one ever feeds me from a silver spoon

So we stick hard to the road less traveled and try to avoid the party

But the tempest in my belly is never still

We walk alone in unfettered tone

But wild things lie beside me

And death will always have its fill

And soon it rises like the mountains and rules in the gypsy wood

And the evildoers adultery is hard understood