All that's new comes from chaos
When the old is out of order
And the final series of layoffs
Sends the workers out to the borders
And there's still no comfort that comforts
All those who stay within the frames
Because whatever it is that keeps them stable isn't
Able to give them their names
For every fifty half-known faces
There is one acknowledged soul
Who walks within the waste of
Of mysteries untold
While they're still singing
Work, buy, use, die
For every five of the ones who travel
There is one who returns to their home
To tell a story that over time unravels
'Til it's canonized in their tomes
I make my decision
Out past the door
No ammunition
Into the war
There's no protection
Where good souls are born
Wind shifts direction
Here come the wolves
Here come the wolves
Here come the wolves