Wolves

Go on and throw them to the wolves my sweet angels
Go on and lead them to the woods and run
You say you're not afraid when the bright sun falls away
But I know you're a liar you tend to give it away

And I think it's quite likely, I'm a terrible girl inside
And you hate my intuition as I hate my stupid rhymes

If you need me I'll be around, you can ask me any questions
I'll tell you whatever you think you need to hear, any lie or confession
And if you need me I'll be right here, In the seas or in the quarries
I'll have all my papers and books and calligraphy pens to tell your brilliant story

And I think it's quite likely I'm a terrible girl inside and you hate my intuition as I hate my wretched pride
So go on and throw me to the wolves my murderous angels. Just lead me to the naked and vicious woods and run