The warren is empty tonight,
blood spills on toiled ground
fur will hang in ragged clumps
Upon the hedgerows
Peace is lost to us now,
a fettered ideal x 2
They are the warmongers
And they will make our laws
A paw will fall upon the weak
They will mark the day
In death we make our charge, our last lament x2
To turn the tide, in our numbers;
the final will fall - they have our fear
We have the will
A battle cry will sound out
shrill against the night
and with it our retribution;
the warren is empty x 5
~
following the narrative; the owsla, the remaining vestiges of the natural world take the last stand against the efrafa. We initially wanted the songs to follow a beginning middle and end, (this being the end) but also, with any band, you want to be able to move songs around, so the lyrics can stand alone. The song is basically the last desperate effort to overthrow the efrafa. Even when we have nothing left to live for, it is our instinct to survive. Even when we are scared and alone we can muster the energy to make the final charge.
