We gotta` raise some money for our children, so when they`re old they don`t have to fear. Scratch their back, they`ll stab yours, it`s obvious boy, it`s crystal clear.
We ain`t got much all we got is, the company of wolves. They`ll approach you, try to coax you, make you sell your soul. The company of wolves, the company of wolves. Get out of their den, start again, they ain`t nothing but fools.
We get tangled in the web of hate, from our piggy bank`s straight back to the fat guy. Turn the tables, throw a rock and roll him, tell him reach for the sky.
We got nothin` on our table, nothing on our plate just dirt on the floor. We listen hard for an answer, but only hear the wolf at the door.
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