Ah, the classic, woeful tale of a werewolf on the run. Villagers with pitchforks and dogs on his tail, the taste of a strange woman’s blood on his fangs’He was too damned to stick to the only girl who would love him so she let him go and alarmed the townfolk to keep him away. He cried, panted, rolled on her livingroom floor like only he could, desperately pleading with her to come with him, but by then she had gotten too afraid of him to even consider it. All she could do was give him a headstart for the southern border.
Now he’s running through the swamp, probably within minutes of catching that silver bullet, and all he can think about are the last words she muttered as she shut the door behind him: ‘I would’ve given you my neck too, you sonofabitch…’
The song packs a good, compact punch and Spencer’s panting and wailing has rarely been this spot on. The ProTools are gone too, thankfully. Maybe now we can finally sweep up the pretty vamps from the NY streets and put some real b.o. back into The Rock. My money’s on the werewolf.