What wandering heart?
What sounder mind?
What quiet child, left behind?
What's safer than home?
And who's cold heart
do I own?
Call down your wolves
I am small, I am small
No great quarry
I am no game animal.
Colder winds
Couldn't sting like you
And what harbored youth
is keeping you from me?
Call down your wolves
I am small, I am small
No great quarry
I am no tame animal.
What wandering light
I've come to find?
I've learned to like
being left behind.