In the Middle of the night,

Where stars shine bright

Moon is so high

The days of hunters are not over.

To fight is to survive

For we are not cowards ,

We need to look alive.

No need to be devoured,

We can find our justice,

For the flesh we keep.

The hunting spree,

It is all precious,

Write into the notebook,

About the beast that was preyed on,

Shall we all perish.

Down we all go,

The beast we spear,

is finally gone.