The lion paces in my brain,
roar and roar and roar again,
one half cunning, all insane,
and he does not cease;
the hunt is on, he stalks the prey
and leaps with claw into the fray;
the blood will flow like dawning day
with red and without peace.
To surge and slash! To overawe
and render reason by the claw,
to rule as king by bloody maw
with reign that will not cease!
With fluid force and hunting pride
I harry, herd, and pounce from side;
I roar and will not be denied
till I rule, for that is peace.