We see princes in shining suits planting gentle kisses on the lips of a love they’ve never met in Technicolor. We see men Mixing a drink with their pinky finger For a woman they’ve just met Across a loud, crowded room. And then we see wolves Licking their fangs Four feet in front of us. We’re in a corner And our eyes are wide They’ve always been circling us Only now we pay attention And it’s almost too late. Run, fast. I tell them I’m talking to the wolves.