The Least of My Kind
Words and music by Catherine Faber © 1994


 Am         C              G        Am
Covered in dirt and mud, aching and spitting blood,
  C           F       C         G
Cursing, you stir to rise and groan.
 Am         F          Am         C
Muffled in yet to come mutters a battle drum;
 Am               G        C   G Am
Werewolves don’t usually walk alone.

Chorus:
	 Am           G           Am             C
	Think on the battle cost; this time the wolf has lost,
	 Am         C         Am    E
	Beaten and broken and blind.
	Am       Em             Am         C
	Better beware, my lord; better prepare, my lord;
	Am          G          Am
	I was the least of my kind.

Prying my switchblade cold out of my fingers’ hold,
Pause to take stock, reflect, and rue.
Look on the damage done here by a single one.
What do you think a full pack will do?

	Chorus

Careless, I came by chance, joining in battle’s dance,
Slain in a fight I could not win.
Far off, a wolf pack hears; heads turn with pricking ears.
Thought you, my lord, that I had no kin?

	Chorus