I tire of sheepish; admire the wolf.
I don't care if it's lonely,
I must become so wholly wolvish; naturally free.
Wolvish; eerily calm in lunacy.

The feelings I get when I witness injustice
Feel the same as when viewing a mountain range.
And when questioning how man forms mal-intent
I wonder "Might refuge exist for estranged?"

I tire of sheepish; admire the wolf.
I don't care if it's lonely,
I must become so wholly wolvish; naturally free.
Wolvish; eerily calm in lunacy.

I must go

Off alone in wild
Where I just might escape my restraints.

But what of the other?
Could I endure the cold thought of
Never seeing her 'gain?
Though there is madness here,
She is least one shining brilliance
To challenge the splendour of that glorious mountain range.
A care so tender it gets me rethinking
My hopeless appraisals of our society.

Oh, could I endure a life lived without her, in the wild?

(Oh, could you be wolvish?
Oh, could you become wholly the wolvish?)

Would it be selfish,
Or best for us all,
If I become so
Wholly the wolvish one?