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The Arcadian Wild
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Wolves of the Revolution
There was blood in the air
I was on all fours, screaming life isn't fair
Break down these walls
As our marksmen hit their mark
And the cloaks of justice are only cloaks after all
Born young and wild
Don't let them cut your tail
Just a pinch of salt in the wound, you'll be fine
One last lifeline, I'm hanging high
Stay awake, oh, from the wolves you run, barefoot
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With their libellous, venomous words they shoot
Pulled and panicked, the door is locked
You're trapped inside of your own heart
It's a spectators sport, just play your part
Born young and wild
Don't let them cut your tail
Just a pinch of salt in the wound, you'll be fine
One last lifeline, I'm hanging high
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