Dire Wolf
Written by Robert Hunter & Jerry Garcia
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, 'twas a bottle of red whisky 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 grinning 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 dues, while the boys sing 'round the fire
Don't murder me, I beg of you, don't murder me Please, don't murder me
Don't murder me, I beg of you, don't murder me Please, don't murder me Please, don't murder me