The Wolves of Paris (Act ii)

When the days had grown shortest, and the leaves all died
When life became scarce
And all was covered in ice
There lived a pack of wolves against every odd
That grew hungry and tired and needed to hunt
They’d sneak in to the towns in the dead of the night
And seek fire for comfort and warmth in the light
And though they weren’t evil, and knew it was wrong
They couldn’t escape, the lust for the blood