All that's new comes from chaos When the old is out of order And the final series of layoffs Sends the workers out to the borders And there's still no comfort that comforts All those who stay within the frames Because whatever it is that keeps them stable isn't Able to give them their names For every fifty half-known faces There is one acknowledged soul Who walks within the waste of Of mysteries untold While they're still singing Work, buy, use, die For every five of the ones who travel There is one who returns to their home To tell a story that over time unravels 'Til it's canonized in their tomes I make my decision Out past the door No ammunition Into the war There's no protection Where good souls are born Wind shifts direction Here come the wolves Here come the wolves Here come the wolves