There is nothing special about me any more There is nothing new about being lonely I had a pack we raised our noses to the sky we made the moon listen we made the night fly and now it is me only And I cry for my pack out on these lonely hills x2 No more the hunt, knowing what to do no more the fun of playing with the pups no more their breath rising from the den at night playing tag, running on the brilliant snow bellies sag, we took a buffalo And I cry for my pack out on these lonely hills x2
