It’s in my blood to die--before me millions have fallen to a nobel cause.
We fight over dominance, food or mates. Mostly it’s the alpha leading us into the kill.
Territory is on all of our minds, or perhaps it’s the idea of dominance

Our pack fights countlessly, a never ending battle.
Each leader, growling at each other, trying to size up his adversary.
Who has the most missiles, who has the largest army, who has the most dedication?

They get into each other’s face, baring teeth -- the rest of the pack watching on.
Finally, one of them breaks sinking his teeth into the other’s neck.
Once frozen, the pack comes to life galloping into battle.

Many lay wounded or dead on the ground, their pitiful whimpers and cries filling the air.
We cannot stop to fight--it’s in our blood.
The vengeance, survival and rage boil our blood, making each bite stronger than the last.

The pack members fight for our alpha-- we die with honor, for it’s in our blood.
Our bloody jaws crave for the enemy to never again rise from their ashes-- it’s in our blood.
We die for the alpha because it’s in our blood.