War, a Young Man's game
For he speaks with Young Man's voice.
And his wild wolfish words a cause for young men to rejoice.
The old men pass him by, ears deaf with thunder lead
For old men hear by smell, and they smell the young men dead.
Well, my ears have gone early, and so each night in bed I stay
Smiling softly, knowing I will see the light of day on coming day
As Wolfish, Witless War howls to he who will not listen.