Sheepskin coming off.    Oh, Lord, I'm a wolf.   I thirst and crave but I can't seem to get enough.   The full moon down secret streets, above your house, smiling.   I've no idea why I am here--just gut instinct.    I know you try to sleep, but you've got no bones.    You've got cold feet.   All the warmth and blood you want so bad is here with me.    The moon's listening.   I hear it, too.    Wind through windows, into your room. It's noise, it's noise, a still small voice, still wanting you.    There's a voice outside your window.