Foxes flee to the forest when weapons get drawn A rider sitting silently Her hounds are her pawns She'd rather her dogs Who beg and lay in need Than a finicky fox Trying to follow her lead They'll tear the fox to pieces As soon as she gives the whistle As if the fox hasn't run far enough Through twists, thorns, and thistle So Nary a fox should live in these woods And Wary a fox as wary a fox should Find safety passed the forest Back to the comfort of your hollow In silence sitting painfully Hoping hounds cannot follow -mtk














