Consecrated Silver

The Wolf the prey for the pistol and the blade, In blood we shall bathe, eternal hunter's wage. Tracking the Werewolf we followed no footprints Trail of the blood and gore in the streets. Once noble wolf mutated by ichor Yet to learn fear from human hand We are the hunters who bring greater violence Part surgeon, part butcher our lives forfeit We are consigned to the art of excision Damning our souls to cleanse the outbreak Hearken, in the night, the dulcet call of the dying wolf. Echoes, in the night, a bullet of silver laid to rest. Noble wolfhound, victim of fate Noble wolfhound, suckled on hate