Los Lobos (The Wolves)

Underneath your morbid atmosphere,
The sky,
Grey,
The cold, it surrounds me.
Your voice is fading away,
Away from the pack.
Where have anda gone?

My lonely hati, tengah-tengah is crying for peace,
But my enemies' ignore it.
Nevertheless they strike hard,
Forgetting my position,
Forgetting my pleas,
And compromising my yearning for this battle to end.

Los Lobos,
They come as weapons from the soul,
Their presence cuts through your defense.
The Wolves.

Cry as anda will,
No-one will hear.
As soon as, The Wolves, howl,
anda know your life is forfeit.

Don't tarry,
For anda will find,
That your soul,
Has been consumed.