Sheepskin coming off.
Oh, Lord, I'm a wolf.
I thirst and crave but I can't seem to get enough.
The full moon down secret streets, above your house, smiling.
I've no idea why I am here--just gut instinct.
I know you try to sleep, but you've got no bones.
You've got cold feet.
All the warmth and blood you want so bad is here with me.
The moon's listening.
I hear it, too.
Wind through windows, into your room. It's noise, it's noise, a still small voice, still wanting you.
There's a voice outside your window.