Why do I always assume the worse about people? Expecting them to all be wolves. Asking myself... Have I met any sheep? Or maybe I a wolve amoung my own? Wolves wait and lurk And I see them lurking, But only because I am lurking. They wait to see me destroyed, Announcing my failures, While I count up theirs. Who is the wolve, Who's barks? And who lays with dogs? Am I the wolve? Why am I so anxious about my next meal? If I'm a sheep? Why does worry of danger hit my chest, If I have a Shepard? Do I believe I am a sheep? Why do I move like a wolve? Do I hunt like a wolve? Then why do I always assume the worse about people?