The Eyes Of The Hunt

The eyes of the hunt. The eyes of a trap
The headless leaders march onwards
The riflemen mount. The axe man's grip tightens
The hounds go forth towards
The weak, the poor, the sick, the sore
All is all prey, that to the sky they stay
Only on blood moons they stray
For the wants of flesh - blood, revenge and greed
These simple values command thee
To waver never. Stay up front
Or perhaps you may end up joining the hunt
The wolves enraged killing, simply greed drives all of us
Headlessly we hunt for more than we need
So haste all to hear, I'll be quite blunt
Do not let greed control you
So you never join the hunt