They asked, "What are we runnin' for?"
I said, "There are wolves at the door!"
I dropped to the ground as bullets whistled by,
out stepped a man with a gun in each hand, then eleven more.
The man asked, "Just what the hell do you think you're doing?
You'd best get running 'cuz trouble's brewing."
The men ran past with 'gages in their hands,
Prepped to kill wolvies and blast'em into sand.
I heard gunshots and we looked in the door,
I saw a bunch of blood and bodies on the floor.
The wolvies were dead,
they shot them in the head.
Two were still kickin', the guns started blazin',
The men were laughing, not one unfazed,
Wolvies covered in blood, the gunmen were done.
They each stepped out with a long toothed grin.
You think the story's over but it's ready to begin.