| I feel the distant stare | |
| Of a watching eye | |
| Watching eyes of THE woodsman | |
| Quivers of death await me here | |
| I'm blind to their illusion - confusion | |
| Fletching of fowl Slips | |
| Through the wind | |
| Releasing their death with | |
| Their fingers | |
| My fate lies on a tensel line | |
| I must escape but there's | |
| Nowhere to hide | |
| The now exchanging roles | |
| In this theater of ill humor | |
| The understudy steals | |
| The stage with an encore performance | |
| One of the hunted - | |
| The tables have turned | |
| One of the hunted - | |
| There's nowhere to run | |
| One of the hun ted - | |
| The tables have turned | |
| One of the hunted - | |
| There's nowhere to run | |
| In the temples of nature | |
| I hear the laughter | |
| Just another victim on | |
| This lonely trail | |
| They show no emotion for | |
| This loss of life | |
| It reminds me of myself not long ago | |
| And the cries for life that | |
| I'd seem to ignore | |
| The cries for life are now | |
| My very own | |
| One of the hunted | |
| The tables have turned | |
| One of the hunted | |
| There's nowhere to run | |
| One of the hunted | |
| The tables have turned | |
| One of the hunted | |
| There's nowhere to run |