Dire Wolf
The
Grateful Dead
Words by Robert Hunter
In the timbers of Fennario
the wolves are running round
The winter was so hard and cold
froze ten feet neath the ground
Don't murder me
I beg of you don't murder me
Please
don't murder me
I sat down to my supper
T'was a bottle of red whiskey
I said my prayers and went to bed
That's the last they saw of me
Don't murder me
I beg of you don't murder me
Please
don't murder me
When I awoke, the Dire Wolf
Six hundred pounds of sin
Was grinnin at my window
All I said was "come on in"
Don't murder me
I beg of you don't murder me
Please
don't murder me
The wolf came in, I got my cards
We sat down for a game
I cut my deck to the Queen of Spades
but the cards were all the same
Don't murder me
I beg of you don't murder me
Please
don't murder me
In the backwash of Fennario
The black and bloody mire
The Dire Wolf collects his due
while the boys sing round the fire
Don't murder me
I beg of you don't murder me
Please
don't murder me
Reprinted with permissions: copyright Ice Nine Publishing - see Grateful Dead Lyrics