The case was made with good intentions
 But soon brought out my excesses

They were wrong to say that 
 The tame are on the prowl
 I'm wishing well on those without
 I'm breath, filling lungs
 I am dying to bring us enough
 Green of field and seedless black
 The two ends meet on cul-de-sac

They were wrong to say that 
 The tame are on the prowl
 I'm wishing well on those without
 I'm breath, filling lungs
 I am dying to bring us enough