No sense in pushing on further, Not a platoon but a regiment of nerves. Squeeze the trigger, and at your feet

No sense in pushing on further, Not a platoon but a regiment of nerves. Squeeze the trigger, and at your feet A seasoned wolf will howl like a beluga. In the predatory bared teeth not a shadow of pity. He doesn't beg for mercy Primordially it flies apart A growl full of enmity And savage hatred. He bristled out of vexation, The snow gave way treacherously! He clanks his white fangs, He smiles at me devilishly. A predator, of another kind, Not by the hunt but by the will to live Tightly bound up with me. Let him go.