[Por_sha911]

Robert Hunter was the 7th Grateful Dead member.
The Dire Wolf has collected his due.


[Verse 1]
In the timbers of Fennario
The wolves are running 'round
The winter was so hard and cold
Froze ten feet 'neath the ground

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me

[Verse 2]
I sat down to my supper
It was a bottle of red whiskey
I said my prayers and went to bed
That's the last they saw of me

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me

[Verse 3]
When I awoke, the dire wolf
Six hundred pounds of sin
Was grinning at my window
All I said was, "Come on in"

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me

[Verse 4]
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

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me
Don't murder me

[Verse 5]
In the backwash of Fennario
The black and bloody mire
The dire wolf collects his due
While the boys sing round the fire

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me

[Chorus]
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me

[Outro]
No, no, no
Don't murder me
I beg of you, don't murder me
Please don't murder me
Please don't murder me



If my words did glow with the gold of sunshine
And my tunes were played on the harp unstrung,
Would you hear my voice come through the music?
Would you hold it near as it were your own?

It's a hand-me-down, the thoughts are broken,
Perhaps they're better left unsung.
I don't know, don't really care
Let there be songs to fill the air.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

Reach out your hand if your cup be empty,
If your cup is full may it be again,
Let it be known there is a fountain,
That was not made by the hands of men.

There is a road, no simple highway,
Between the dawn and the dark of night,
And if you go no one may follow,
That path is for your steps alone.

Ripple in still water,
When there is no pebble tossed,
Nor wind to blow.

You, who choose to lead, must follow
But if you fall you fall alone.
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.