Wasted ashore by a stormfull flood* Left behind by their natural kin Raised by disrespected peasants Born with nothing, but with a world to win Set aside as a waste of nature No companion for the wealthy clan Mocked and feared for their appearance Blessed by divine beauty and strength Their youthful spirits urge to rebel Their nature is to seek A rebellion adored by their peers Hatred by the king and his head Never responding to threats Hunting down looters of unjust Their youthful spirits urge to rebel Their nature is to seek As the night embrace the hills They shape as their mothers shame Wolverine bastards roam these hills A devilish dance stampede their game