21 December 2012
Runnin wit the wolves It's not my true nature But it the state of a affairs here Searching for the golden paper Growin up a young pup Said I'd never amount to much But my furs warm An I keep an everlasting Dutch Coming up Mad hills and such Hunter and the hunted Dodging bullets tough Avoiding the clutch Life hangs in a balance Sharp and cold like my teeth to the touch
Forest gets dark Hear the calls of the lark Spirit gets heavy Staying alive is an art
Nothing around Just the sound of the pound of four paws coverin ground Dirty claw prints to prove I'm around.
Sativa Wolf • Opuss № I