46 - The Fugitive

I don't claim to be guilty

Nor do I ask for mercy

Blood stains red on my jersey

Feel my hands they so dirty

.

Let's hike to distant places

To where they leave no traces

A fool for your embraces

Am I in your good graces

.

All roads lead to where I hide

The gates of hell open wide

Can't do much to turn the tide

Time is never on my side