Feed me, give me shelter,
Put me on my wobbly feet.
I'm a wolf of the desert,
King of the drought and heat.
Keep away from the mouths
Tucker and victual.
Lift my heavy, my eyelids,
Revive me a little.
Soon I'll be crawling,
Spreading my clawed paws,
Smashing the innocent souls,
Killing with merciless claws.
Soon I'II be howling,
Knocking about
in a pitch - black mantle
Soon I'II be bullying,
menacing
All who are strong,
who are tough,
who are gentle
Help me to murder,
Put on their necks
all my hoops,
all my ropes,
and my cords.
Stop them to grow in numbers,
Breed into countless hordes.
Help me, o help me
Before it's to late!
For they grow and grow, and grow
At a dangerous,
threatening rate.
I'm all for destruction,
Peril and loss.
Cancer's my rival,
Death is my boss.
In this verse, the Famine
speaks in early 1970's
to whom it may concern
in Pakistan and Inlia.
