Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
Wild Cub
In the hot night, I hear your voice
That blind horizon tying its blood red line to the center of choice
Hold on
I broke my back down waiting on a wishing well
Hold on
From the desert I drank of the wishing well
Up late, pour a little something in me
You slept so quiet and I can’t wake up the truth you’ve hidden in me