Son of the Wolf

The wolf he has claws, fangs and old scars
 His fur is covered in red
 Stained by the blood of the innocent slain, He has no regret
 There's no mercy for the weak of heart
 They'll be trampled down and torn apart
 As ruthless as it all may seem
 The wild cares not for the weaker beings
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 Pursuing the scent, the stench of fear, It leads him to his prey
 Cold and alone, forever he roams, devouring all in his way
 There's no mercy for the weak of heart
 They'll be trampled down and torn apart
 As ruthless as it all may seem
 The wild cares not for the weaker beings
 All that he knows is this life of murder to feed his hunger woes
 He knows that his soul is damned, for what god would love such a wicked awful man