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 [bad word] The hunger and the pain
stop to look about then off again 

Being at the wrong place
And the wrong time
Suspected of a hit that was my crime 

I am a fugitive being hunted down like game
I am a fugitive but I've got to clear my name 

Always looking 'round me
Forever looking back
I'll always be a target for attack 

Ever moving onwards
Always on [bad word] Waiting for the sight of a loaded gun 

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