There's always something tucked away.
Under my skin, and there it stays.
But in the moment, under the moonlight,
the wind rings through the trees.
A certain fire in my eyes,
that maybe helps me recognize where I came from.
I'll tell the tale son, and it'll go like this.
I was raised by a pack of wolves
And I'll fight until my last breath escapes my lungs.
I was raised by a pack of wolves
And I'll fight until my skin separates from bone.
What was a spark, is now a flame.
A feeling that I can't explain.
The freedom, the courage to always carry on.
You taught me something that I should've known.
Dried up leaves, and falling snow into the winter night.
We shed our tears tonight and carry the torch home.
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