Wolves

Go on and throw me to the wolves
My sweet angels
Go on and lead them to the woods
And run

You say your 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