The black helicopters are coming for me
It's only a matter of time.
I'm hunted and haunted by eyes that can see
the blood and the fire and the weight of my crime.

Nowhere I can run. Nowhere they can't see.
Locked away inside. Trying to stay free.
Memories fade out. Memories almost gone.
I can't even tell who I'm running from.

They've been after me
for so long.
I'm afraid my mind
has gone wrong.
Where is everyone?
I need air.
Prisoner in my home.
It's not fair.

The black helicopters are coming for me
It's only a matter of time.
I'm hunted and haunted by eyes that can see
the blood and the fire and the weight of my crime.

Venturing outside. Hunting for supplies.
No-one on the streets. Still, two million eyes.
Everybody's gone. Five or six at most.
They don't notice me. I've become a ghost.

Searchlights from the sky. I can feel them near.
Right above my head. They must know I'm here.
Hover for a while. Then they fade away.
Take another breath. Live another day.

The voices of those that I've hurt float around me at night.
But, truth be told, I cannot recognise even one.
A choir of faces that scream when I turn out the light,
torments me, and yet, I can't even recall what I've done.

The black helicopters are coming for me
It's only a matter of time.
I'm hunted and haunted by eyes that can see
the blood and the fire and the weight of my crime.

Those black helicopters are ravens from Hell,
and soon they'll be taking me in.
I'm hunted and haunted by hounds that can smell
the blood in my soul, the fire of my sin.