The warren is empty tonight, Blood spills on toiled ground Fur will hang in ragged clumps Upon the hedgerows Peace is lost to us now, A fettered ideal x 2 They are the warmongers And they will make our laws A paw will fall upon the weak They will mark the day In death we make our charge, our last lament x2 To turn the tide, in our numbers; The final will fall - they have our fear We have the will A battle cry will sound out Shrill against the night And with it our retribution; The warren is empty x 5 Following the narrative; the owsla, the remaining vestiges of the natural world take the last stand against the efrafa. We initially wanted the songs to follow a beginning middle and end, (this being the end) but also, with any band, you want to be able to move songs around, so the lyrics can stand alone. The song is basically the last desperate effort to overthrow the efrafa. Even when we have nothing left to live for, it is our instinct to survive. Even when we are scared and alone we can muster the energy to make the final charge.