He is the runaway, Lie low the wanted man
|
Mask his elusive face, Soon he will getaway and free is his
|
future no more aimless time to spend
|
And evading, he's escaping
|
Four dirty walls and a bed in a cage his home no more.
|
|
Run in the underwood, Cover and hide the trail
|
Senses like sharpened sword, Guards for the shadow on his
|
tail.
|
|
And yet his joy is empty and sad.
|
|
All thoughts are scarred with the prison cell and freedom
|
seems like freedom's hell
|
Hopes stained with strange regret, His dreams are dreams
|
for that he cannot get.
|
|
And yet his joy is empty and sad.
|
|
Lose all identity, Vanish in own denial
|
Seeks only lies and hide, Truth never brought to trial.
|
And caught in his own net, he looks to find endless life and
|
evading, he's escaping
|
Four dirty walls and a bed in a cage his home no more.
|
|
Run in the underwood, Cover and hide the trail
|
Senses like sharpened sword, Guards for the shadow on his
|
tail.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Runaway
|
| Gentle Giant |
