Howl

Johnny was a wanderer
Johnny was a priest
And on the nights the moon came out
Johnny was a beast

He never told his doting flock
But still they found out
And on that night the Midnight Mass
Became a Midnight Rout

They chased him from his pulpit
In a charging mass of white
Forced into the woodland
Hidden from their sight

His flock returned to grazing
The clover and the grass
And Johnny still a-wanders
Welcome as broken glass

His sermons go unanswered
Noone listens, noone can
Johnny always was a wolf
Who dreamed of being a man