A wolf in all his splender stands upon a mountain top, looking donw at the valley with eyes of wonder.
A strength renewed as the night wares on toward the coming of th dawn, he waits listening for those who approach from behind.
He is the leader of a pack, slowly his head raises, his ears turn downward as his mouth begins to open.
Out comes the sound that has rang throughtout the ages past, a call from his forefathers that has sounded like music to them who has listened to song.
Eerie to those who are astranged, but a call of love to those who know him best.
A call that will ring out so long as his spirit goes on, if his kinsmen do all pass away together no more to roam.
So to will his song that brightens those who listen and join in for if he lives on only in pictures then who will carry his majestic and timeless music of the night.
