The wolves run free and wild,

As the baby cries meek and mild,

You kiss me softly as the wolves sing,

I can hear the bell toll, ding dong ding,

A funeral bell, an Irish wake,

Who can tell how long it will take,

The moon smiles over the treetops,

The clock still churns, tock tick tock,

A laugh, a smirk, lead me to your death,

Death you say is a feeble word, so you said,

The smell of the earth as you closed the coffin lid,

Further I suffocated, further I slid,

Deafening silence fills me within,

It has not ended, nor did it begin,

Fill me with lies, drunken with hatred,

Lead me on friend, lead me to your bed,

The scarlet color, possibly blood, possibly fire,

It’s all the same on my funeral pyre,

I can’t believe you’re too blind to see,

My love for you could never be.