good night wolf bite one of a kind lie low wipe all traces of a fight charcoal blind foal limps by her side bow and arrow lead them to the hole she may be the child of spring let her in to greet her king she wore a madstone skin tight moonlight along her spine fireflies swarm wild in a chilling rite warm ink sweet milk run down her thighs boil glow unknown simmer until dawn she may be the child of spring let her in and hear her sing she wore a madstone