It Seems They Have Our Whereabouts..

from The Gallows Tree by Our Man In The Bronze Age

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lyrics

A reason dies lies shred and torn
Back through our eyes we are reborn
In sleep we find our whereabouts

A final straw that brakes the back
The rain that falls upon our tracks, alive

The droves they march across the line
The dusty boots that fall in time
It seems they have our whereabouts

So speed your wit with supple thought
We hold our ropes and keep them taught tonight

In case you'd rather run
Fly wait for no one
In case you'd rather run
Fly