Thin

hung

the

web

like

a

trap

in

a

cage,

The

fox

lay

a-

sleep

in

his

lair.

Fang's

fran-

tic

paws

told

the

tale

of

his

sin,

Far

off

the

chase

shrieked

re-

venge.

Out-

cast

he

tres-

passed

where

no

wolf

may

tread,

The

last

sa-

cred

haunt

of

the

dead.

He

learnt

of

a

truth

which

on-

ly

one

wolf

may

know,

The

scep-

tre

and

crown

of

a

king.

Howl-

ing

for

blood,

One-

eye

leads

on

the

pack,

Plung-

ing

through

for-

est

and

snow-

storm.

Steep

rose

the

ridge,

ghost

-

ly

peaks

climbed

the

sky,

Fang

sped

through

jun-

gles

of

ice.

Hard

on

his

trail,

One-

eye

drew

from

the

pack,

An

old

her-

o

con-

quered

by

none.

Steep,

far

too

steep,

grew

the

path-

way

a-

head,

De-

scent

was

the

on-

ly

e-

scape.

A

wolf

ne-

ver

flees

in

the

face

of

his

foe,

Fang

knew

the

price

he

would

pay.

One-

eye

stood

be-

fore

him

With

the

crown

up-

on

his

head,

Scep-

tre

raised

to

deal

the

dead-

ly

bl-

ow.

Fang,

son

of

Great

Fang,

the

trai-

tor

we

seek,

The

laws

of

the

breth-

ren

say

this:

That

on-

ly

the

king

sees

the

crown

of

the

gods,

And

he,

the

u-

sur-

per,

must

die.

Snarl-

ing

he

tore

at

the

throat

of

his

foe,

But

Fang

fought

the

her-

o

in

vain.

Dawn

saw

the

white

moun-

tain

tint-

ed

with

red,

Ne-

ver

would

the

crown

leave

a-

gain.

One-

eye

hid

the

crown

and

with

laur-

els

on

his

head

Re-

turned

a-

mongst

the

tribe

and

dwelt

in

pe-

ace.

O-

h-

h-

h,

O-

h-

h,

O-

h-

h.

O-

h-

h-

h,

O-

h-

h.

O-

h-

h-

h,

O-

h-

h.