| This is the time to move
|
| A creeping sense of suspicion but little to prove
|
| A sense of distrust
|
| A heart of darkness is imposing itself on us
|
| This time I’m scared
|
| Of what is near
|
| This time we’re scared
|
| Of what may be near
|
| Yeah, I can smell something in the air
|
| I can see the red glow of their eyes
|
| They say it can’t happen here
|
| But as the jungle swallows us
|
| Morality becomes less clear
|
| This time I’m scared
|
| Of what is near
|
| This time we’re scared
|
| Of what may be here
|
| When the wolves run, we won’t even see them come
|
| When the wolves come, we will be overrun
|
| When the wolves run, we won’t even see them come
|
| When the wolves come, we will be overrun
|
| Again and again
|
| Is history repeating again?
|
| Again and again
|
| A cycle that will not end
|
| When the wolves run, we won’t even see them come
|
| When the wolves come, we will be overrun
|
| It sure as hell can happen here
|
| If vigilance is oushed aside with fear
|
| I leave you with this one thought
|
| And that is that they will come as you sleep
|
| And if you see them running at you
|
| Fight till the death |