Deep within the lion’s den lays the lion’s son. Claim to fame the village bane hunts the children. Men of age lack the courage that they hunger for, it’s what we all hunger for. Ask around the small town what they are running from. The smell of fear the sound of tears and loaded shotguns. Blood in the eyes, fathers try to hide their caution, it will cost them. Climbing that wall, I’m hungry that’s all, I’m going to find you, I’m going to kill you. Climbing that wall, I’m hungry that’s all, I’m going to catch you, I’m going to eat you. Deep within the lion’s heart beats a tired drum. Counts the day until the rage just follows him home. Run away, wait for rain, throw the scent off. It will throw them off. Cut around stalk the town while the men are off. Women try a laughable time their meat is too soft. Left for dead, paint the town red, pick from the crop. I’ll take from the top. Climbing that wall, I’m hungry that’s all, I’m going to find you, I’m going to kill you. Climbing that wall, I’m hungry that’s all, I’m going to catch you, I’m going to eat you. Everything is coming around. Deep within the lion’s mind lies the reason. Memory of the fallen son haunts with treason. Round and round the world's tongue in fluent form. What’s bad form… is bad form.
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