Among shaggy fir trees The sickly she wolf rears her head Toward a patchy peach colored moon, Howling the most sincere song of woe. Miles away, Metropolisville USA, An unnamed baby chokes its last unheard breath, Before submitting to winter’s biting cold. A well drugged mother checks into rehab, Wanting to clean up, Take care of her infant, Lead a proper life, Set a good example. Before the daffodils bloom again, The she wolf will be dead, Leaving behind countless young To sing for all the world’s sorrow. The mother will be high, Leaving behind the rotting carcass Of her forgotten attempt at eternal life.