on a cold october morning

as frost lay on the ground

waiting to make my move

i make no sound

waiting for the mist to cover all around

i carefully picked my time

then took the wall

i'm sick and tired of running

the hunger and the pain

a stop to look about then off again

being at the wrong place

and the wrong time

suspected of a hit that was my crime

like game

my name

always looking 'round me

forever looking back

i'll always be a target for attack

ever moving onwards

always on the run

waiting for the sight of a loaded gun

like game

my name

even if i find them

and get to clear my name

i know that things can never

be the same

but if i ever prove

my innocence some day

i've got to get them all to make them pay

like game

my name