Terry O'Leary - The Wolf lyrics

A cruel Jack Frost blows icy floss (in front of spring a' burstin') While swirlin' sheaves of withered leaves, near freezin' streams a' thirstin'. A pack reviled is roamin' wild, a wakin' wolf is howlin', He scents a lean and lonesome scene, while on the lurk and prowlin'. With spangled bolts, white clouds revolt, and starry skies start closin'; A wild goose soars beyond d**h's doors, the naked moon sits posin'; Electric shafts (on fractured rafts) sail night's cathedral caldrons - A frenzied burst, the herd's dispersed in random splayed and sprawled runs. A she-wolf's eyes with famine cry, the ancient wolf is bayin', With weary back, he's lost the track, his bandied legs betrayin'. The brood's somewhere in shrouded lair with she-wolves left to mind 'em - The wolf, a' drag with empty swag, is on his way to find 'em. The pack rejoins with weary loins, they sense their days are numbered. In evening's night, he's feeling tight, with aches and pains encumbered, And standin' near, with shaggy ears (one droopin' down, hung over) , He'll set the course with renewed force, because he's still the rover. Soon snow enshrines the timberlines the bear's are sleepin' under, And young, lupine, they'll stifle whines, as gullies fill with thunder; With echoes in the mouth o' d**h, they bid farewell the lair While panting puffs o' crystal breath float, hanging in the air. As dusk regains the snow-bound plains, the sinkin' sun's a' hissin', Their path is black (they don't look back) , the herd's long gone a' missin'; Neath northern lights, with barks and bites, he keeps 'em all in motion - The speckled scars of fallin' stars betray the night's emotion. The sky is blushin' in the east, and hollow wind's are sighin' While buzzards freeze in gallows trees, a' sittin' still and eyein'. These ghouls of prey, they're spooked away, like tumbleweeds a' blowin', By tilted head, white fangs tipped red, and warnin' wail's a' growin'. With muzzled growl and shriekin' howl, the wolf's outstretched, defendin', His snout upturned, and moon discerned, he's whiffed a waft a' wendin'; With fragrant hint, the wolf's a' sprint, the pack begins t' rally, With swift descent he's on the scent, a' flowin' down the valley. The pack moves on behind the dawn, the wolf beyond horizon; A she-wolf vets his silhouettes each time she lays her eyes on. On trek discreet, a track is beat across the rivers frozen - When day's complete, just ice to eat, a choice that's often chosen. A stillness jeers the shaggy ears (one droopin' down, hung over) , Where caribou are scratchin' through and seekin' blades o' clover; The wearied pack picks up the track, with stony stomachs pangin', 'Tween barren trees beyond the seas, with ice like daggers hangin'. The wolf, though white, still hounds the night, the pack stays close behind 'im; The caribou, in his purview, seem far too far to mind 'im; Above, a baleful moonbeam wails, "oh god he's gonna' catch 'em" The scene is grim, the Reaper dim, the night has gone to fetch 'im. A moanin' mynah's cryin' loud, a wide-eyed owl's a' screechin' A bird of prey's a' prayin' proud, a raven bird's a' preachin'; The wolf, unrushed, is breathin' hushed, his hollow eyes a' narrowin' And focused hard in fixed regard on herds they've been a' harrowin'. The morning breeze begins t' freeze, the branches break in silence, A poundin' storm, a haggard swarm, like hurricanes of violence; The herd's surprised and paralyzed all over hell's half acre - The leadin' buck's run out of luck, he's soon to meet his maker. The old wolf creeps, the old wolf leaps on prey he's been a' trackin' - A deer adorned with branchin' horns is torn by beasts attackin'. The morning quakes, a shadow shakes, some antlers left a' lyin', And spattered spots and scarlet clots repaint the point o' dyin'. A magpie flies with frightened eyes (on ebon wings a' wavin') , Spies wolfin' jaws and sated maws of wolves no longer cravin'. The snowdrift clears, a cool wind veers, a dying breath, moreover - A wraith appears, with shaggy ears, (one droopin' down, hung over) . Dawn's sunbeams crowd and streak a cloud, (its threaded strands are weavin') . The pack awakes and twists and shakes, for soon it's time for leavin'; It's cold and chill on shallow hill, the she-wolf comes a' nuzzlin', The sky is shrill, the wolf is still, the pack stands back a' puzzlin'. On crimson snows neath perchin' crows, the pack, it stays a' guardin', The nights are tight with Harpy kites, the she-wolves wait an' harden, Until a groanin' blizzard stones the barren forest..., stowin' The shaggy ears, beside a weir, neath icy hails 'a blowin'. The storm abates and terminates, the glacial wind's subsidin'; The past is past or pa**in' fast and life goes on abidin'. The herd, today, is far away, not thinkin' of the dyin'; The pack'll stray from day to day, 'a stalkin' hard and tryin'. As spring sneaks forth upon the north, They're lean without a leader. The she-wolf (bound with belly round) strains neath a budding cedar. Upon the morn a whelp is born, who'll soon be takin' over Unchained frontiers..., with shaggy ears, (one droopin' down, hung over) .