Like wolves,
We travel in a pack
Teeth unconsciously bared
And ready to attack
Each one of us, anonymous
Black hoods make sure of that
So-called wizards flee before us
Running like the rat
The stadium's deserted
A campground overturned
And high above our heads
There floats a lover I have spurned
For now we march without direction
Flinging curses at the crowd
If he were here to see this
The Dark Lord would be proud.