A runaway horse is wandering
Timid, through Carpathian trees
And he has never known what it is to be free
Wolves lie in wait in every shadow
They salivate behind brush and leaf
They can smell his fear and bare their jagged teeth
Here's to the submission of fire...
Here's to the tomb the body has become
The house of the alpha that once was
The instinct bred from the heart of the beast
Tamed and white-washed with pomp and gloss
Here's to the trick of complacency
The sleight-of-hand and swindle of peace
The unfettered archetype turned memory
Westernized with love and deceit
Where did the will go that would charge us to new horizons?
The unrestrained and sovereign's pyre burning out at sea
You can wallow in perdition
You can crawl upon your knees
But you can never kill the animal in me
In memory of Nature and Instinct
I remain uncivilized, perverse, poised to kill,
And fucking animal, feral, wild,
And Free...
Where did the will go that would charge us to new horizons?
The unrestrained and sovereign's pyre burning out at sea
You can wallow in submission
You can spread your slave disease
But you can never kill the animal in me
Encircled, the horse rears back striking, before falling prey to its hunters. In its taming, it finds its demise... the instinct bred from the heart of the beast. But an ember will always smolder within, as it does in us all. So, beware the hearts and souls you lay chains upon. The animal still resides within and may reveal itself at any time. Though outnumbered, the free one–the wild one–carries the fire and ferocity of a hundred...